The Holy Grail Agency
by Ms. AtomicBomb
Summary: The Holy Grail Agency, or most commonly known as the H.G.A, is a league of heroes that keep villains in check. Lead by the notorious Marie Antoinette, the H.G.A settle in Fuyuki due to the recent climb in crime and Mana activity. Jeanne d'Arc, your average semi-poor girl—and the latest superhero in Fuyuki;La Pucelle—is recruited after nearly being killed by a Beserker-type villain.
1. Prologue

**Full Summary:** The Holy Grail Agency, or most commonly known as the H.G.A, is a league of heroes that obviously try and save the world. Lead by the notorious Marie Antoinette, the H.G.A settle in Fuyuki due to the recent climb in crime and Mana activity. Jeanne d'Arc, your average semi-poor girl, is recruited after nearly being killed by Beserker-type villain. Although she is quite new to the superhero world, she hopes to be able to protect her city.

 **Rating:** T for maturer teens because of conflict and action and so on.

 **Disclaimers:** Talk of Religion at times (Because Jeanne is a religious figure), blood, action, every thing that goes hand in hand with Superheroes and villains? Mass destruction maybe.

 **~Author's note~**

 **Welcome to my new story! The Holy Grail Agency! I hope you all like it and please enjoy the prologue!**

 **Sincerely,**

 **~Ms. AtomicBomb**

* * *

Okay, so this wasn't exactly what she thought of when they say "Superhero". Usually, you have to be rich, bitten by a radioactive insect, undergo a mutation or be an alien. In fact, the majority of the super heroes she knew of—with the exception of the one that used to be in the KGB or something—had undergone this process. Either way, she did not expect to become a superhero after finding an old banner in her grandfather's attic.

She never thought of being on the roof top of a sky scraper with a banner in her hand and a holy sword sheathed and strapped to her hip. Or even having a partner with a red lance in hands.

"Remember, try not to ruin the city this time around," Jeanne heard the voice of the agency's head through the phone.

"I'll make sure not to let the Hound run wild," Jeanne laughed as she glanced over at her partner, who had a visible frown on his lips.

"I count on you, Pucelle."

Jeanne widened her smile and nodded, "And I won't let you down, Marie." She hung up the phone and strapped it to her hip, next to her sword.

"Well, little lass, are you ready?" The man with the blue mask over his red eyes winked at her.

Jeanne lifted an eyebrow and then looked down. The cars were many, many meters away, but she was not scared of heights, unlike the man next to her. He could deny it all he wanted, but it was evident that he did not like looking over a sky scraper.

A smile grew on her lips as she turned her head over to the masked man, "Ready when you are!" They both jumped off the building and carried to the next. The lights of the city lighting their path as they hurried after the police sirens.

* * *

 _ **:~~~~~A few months prior~~~~~:**_

* * *

Jeanne hummed a song as she began to clean up the attic. Her grandfather had gone on and on about cleaning it out for the last few weeks and they were finally doing it. She was about halfway into cleaning the attic with the help of one of her older brothers when her little brother ran past them with a flag rooted to a flag pole on his hands. He waved it about and giggled every time he past the two teenagers.

"Pierre, put that darn thing down." The deep voice of her brother Jean resonated in the attic as he was upset with the behaviour of the little boy.

Jeanne shook her head and looked down at the brunette boy with freckles on his cheeks, "Don't listen to him, he's just cheesed that he didn't get to go out with his friends and has to be helping us clean instead." Her eyes then landed on what she had previously thought was a flag until she noticed it was a banner. A simple white banner. There was nothing on it, just simply white.

Jeanne crouched down to the level of her little brother and smiled at him, "What's that, Pierre?" She questioned in a sweet voice, "Where'd you get it?"

Huge violet eyes stared at her intently, then a plump hand lifted as the little child pointed at a corner in the room, "It's a flaggie! I got it from the corner and grand-p _è_ re said that I could have it! S'il vous plait? Pleaseeee? Jeanne, please?"

The teenager grinned and nodded, "Okay, but when you're done with it, bring it to me." For some reason, she wanted to extend her hand and take it from her little brother, but she resisted the urge for she knew it would cause tears to weld in the child's eyes.

"You shouldn't encourage him, Jehanette." Her older brother gave her a short glare.

She gave him a disappointed look and crossed her arms over her chest, "He's just a child. Plus, you should probably start warming up to him."

"Yeah, well one more year of this and I'm gone to Pierre et Marie Currie. Far away from Fuyuki."

"Well, it's quite obvious you hate us," Jeanne never liked the idea of her brother leaving for France. Whenever he mentioned that, she became upset for she knew he wanted to be more like Jacques and Catherine—their older siblings.

"Gosh, sis, it isn't like I'm leaving you forever. Goodness, all you ever talk about is how I'm betraying you. I get it, you don't want us to leave, but it isn't like I'm going to stab you in the back."

Jeanne took a deep breath, "Whatever, let's talk about this some other time. I don't fight right now."

Jean groaned, "You were the one who started it."

The female set down the vase she had in her hand and rubbed her face before turning to leave, "You're the one that wants to ditch us."

The dark haired male threw what sounded like a book on the floor, "Stop it! I'm not ditching you! Don't you understand? I'm tired of all of this. I want to get out of this place, I hate being stuck in a small house with my entire family because we can't afford a bigger place. I'm sick of all of this. If I go to Marie Curie, I'll be able to get us out of this mess." He had walked closer to his sister and landed a hand on her shoulder, "I'm not like Jacques or Cat, I promise that it is all for the family."

Jeanne looked up at him and sighed, "I… Okay."

"Let's finish cleaning up now, yeah?" His voice was much warmer and inviting, probably his attempt to cheer his sister up.

The younger of the two teenagers nodded and then they proceeded to finish cleaning up and getting rid of things that they thought were unimportant. It was about ten in the evening when they had finished and looked upon their accomplishment.

"Okay, let's take this stuff downstairs and check with grand-père if he really needs them." Her brother stretched a bit before lifted the box and descended the attic stairs, soon followed by Jeanne. They had not spoken to each other much after the small argument they shared and she did not know if she could talk to him normally for another day or two. They usually got into nasty fights, but this one was different—it was much more personal.

"Pierre!" Jeanne called out to her little brother which she seemed to have not seen since the early afternoon when he was waving the flag about. Her brows furrowed after she had not heard his response and she called his name again and again and then she turned to her grandfather, "Grand-père, do you know where Pierre is?"

Her grandfather smiled and nodded, "He went outside to play."

Jeanne's eyes grew a little wider and she looked checked her phone, "At ten at night?" She let out a sigh and exited the house.

She ran around the small house a few times and after not finding anything, her heart beat was starting to speed up and she was letting her imagination run wild and frighten her. She ran down the street for a while and she could feel her heart in her throat and ringing in her ears. She was breathing heavily when she saw two figures at the end of the street, an older man with a child holding his hand. Jeanne's breath hitched and she ran as fast as she could to catch up to them.

"Who are you?" Jeanne called out as she had realized that the man was holding her little brother's hand—in fact, the person was about her age.

The orange haired male turned about in a quick motion and black eyes came in contact with her violet ones, "Hmm?" He raised a dark eyebrow.

"What are you doing with my brother?" She balled her hands into fists for fear that he would catch a glimpse of her rough shaking.

The young man smiled—sarcastically—and then let go of the little boy's hand, who seemed to have been dazed, "Oh, he's your brother? I saw him wondering about all alone in the dark. I was going to take him to the police station."

"Thank you…" Jeanne sighed in relief seeing that the young boy before her did not seem like a threat, but there was something that did not feel right.

The orange haired male smirked and then bowed, "Ryuunosuke Uryuu, nice to meet such a lovely girl as yourself and a cute little kid."

Jeanne took Pierre's hand in hers and then took the banner from his hands as well. It was odd that the little child was still holding on to it, "Um, thank you," she gave a courteous smile although she did not like the feeling he gave off.

There was a long silence that filled the space between them and even Pierre was keeping silent.

"Hey!" She never thought that being scared by her older brother would be the best thing that ever happened to her. Although she jumped a foot in the air, the familiar voice of her brother washed relief over her and she let out a silent sigh.

They bid the man a farewell after Jean had looked him over and even shot him a dirty look before turning to leave with his younger siblings. Upon being far from the male enough, her brother turned to her and glared, "Jehanette, what is wrong with you? You cannot run off like that at such a late hour and not wait up for me. What if something happened to you too? Can you really trust that man?"

Jeanne was taken aback by such a sudden outburst but she slowly dropped her gaze for her older brother was completely correct, "Pardonnez-moi…"

"Yeah, whatever, just be careful next time. And you, Pierre. Do not run off like that again—you can get injured or worse! Never leave the yard and go inside as soon as the sun is beginning to set."

The little boy also hung his head and once they had reached the small house, he ran up to the room that the two boys shared and forgot about the banner he had been holding.

Jeanne ran her teeth over her lower lip as she ascended the stairs with the banner in hand, she set it against the wall close to her bed and closed the door behind herself. She fell on the lavender bed exhaled deeply, "Wow…that was scary…" Her voice was strained as she had been scared to death and even at the edge of tears at the fact that her brother had disappeared.

It wasn't long until sleep over took her and her eyes closed shut on their own accord. It was mid-dream when she heard a sweet yet strong voice call her name. At first, she was much too deep asleep to even make an effort to wake up, but a light shun and she could feel the warmth as it radiated from it. Her violet eyes slowly opened and she took note that there was a bright figure before her.

She squinted her eyes and slowly sat up, as her pupils were still much too dilated to accustom to the bright light, "Jean, go to bed," she groaned and turned away down from the light and laid back so that she was able to go back to bed.

"Jeanne," Alright, so her brother's voice was not that soothing, but there was no way it could be anyone else considering how fluently the person spoke. Her grandfather's voice would be rough and her little brother would sound quite childish and even slur her name.

Giving up, she sat up again and tried to keep her eyes open, even if the light was blinding her, "What is it, Jean?" She yawned and stretched her arms.

"It is not Jean," the voice spoke.

Jeanne receded a little on her bed and covered her body with the sheets, "Who are you?"

"I AM." The answer was strong, but the voice was gentle, "Jeanne, I have chosen you to help the people. Are you willing to put your life at risk for the lives of others?"

"What?" Her mind was now fully awake and functioning, even as her eyes were hoping to adjust to the light still, "What?"

"Save the people and I will help you," the voice said and then the banner was placed in front of her, "Take this with you and it will help you. You are able to choose, my dear; just choose what your heart feels is right."

Jeanne kept silent as she looked down at the banner; the flag was no longer white, instead it was decorated with fleur-de-lis and a figure of Jesus in the center. Her pale hand was already reaching for the decorated pole of the banner but she stopped herself. This had to be a dream, right?

Her hand reached out again and she touched the pole this time. The iciness of it leaking into her skin and as soon as her hand landed on the staff, the light disappeared and the banner became what it was once; a simply white sheet of fabric tied to a metal rod.


	2. The First Fight

Jeanne woke up the next morning to find her room as it was when she had first fallen asleep, the banner was still up against the wall and it seemed as if what had happened was a simple dream. She slowly sat up as she yawned and rubbed her eyes. She slipped out of bed and fixed her night gown before stretching and heading to the washroom. She looked over at the clock and noticed the late hour, but she still was not going to be late for work as of yet.

Her violet eyes landed on the staff as she was changing into some sweats. She slowly made her way towards it and picked it up—it seemed to be lighter than the day before. Her eyes scanned over it a couple of times until she noticed what appeared to be a button. Her curiosity got the best of her and she pressed it. The metal staff shortened to about the length of a ruler while the white flag had been sucked in.

She worked at a normal bakery in Shinto. She usually biked to her workplace but since the tire of her bike was flattened, she figured she would walk instead. The walk was not so long, but she needed to go past the bridge and a little more into the center of Fuyuki city. She had left her house with simply shoving an apple into her mouth before she ran out waving goodbye to her brothers and grandfather.

The bell above the shop's door rang as a customer entered and she lifted her head from the ordinary bread she was setting on a tray towards the door, "Welcome," she bowed and then noted the familiar face of her friend, "Oh, hello, Gilles. How are you?" She smiled brightly.

Gilles returned the gesture and waved at her, "Hey, Jeanne." The boy that had his dark blue hair tied in a low and loose ponytail walked towards her. They had been friends for a few years now and they never kept secrets from each other. They were actually best friends, but since it was school break she was working a lot and they could barely hang out. "I'm doing tres bien, and you?" he winked.

Jeanne giggled a little and finished setting the bread on the tray, "Tres bien aussi. Had a crazy dream but all's well now. It's nice out, yeah?"

"Mhmm," the male nodded, black eyes closing for a sec, "Are there any meat buns?" He asked while still keeping his gaze on his friend.

"Yup," she smiled and proceeded to make her way to where the meat buns were usually held, "They're fresh."

"Can I have four?" He searched his pockets for money and then took out his wallet.

"Of course," she nodded and then placed said amount into a paper bag. She then walked to the cashier and typed in the price.

The young male before her set the money on the counter and took the bag in his hands, "Oh, I want you to meet a friend I made. His name is Ryuunosuke, but we can meet him when you don't have to work. Sound good?"

Jeanne recalled the man she had met the day prior but she shrugged it off and nodded, "That sounds great." Many people could share that name anyways.

"See you, bro!" Gilles grinned and then left the shop soon after.

Jeanne's day was rather uneventful after that and since she had to work the entire day, she also had closing duty with her manager. The manager waved her off after they locked the shop and headed the opposite way, because she live in Shinto while Jeanne had to return to Miyama.

Jeanne sighed and looked up at the dark sky before pulling out her cellphone and texting her brother that she was on her way. She never liked being alone in the city at night, so she held her bag a little tighter and quickened her speed. The tall buildings were a little intimidating as they were able to hide the people around them and Jeanne was feeling uneasy. She decided it best to not take the short cut to the bridge for she knew it was poorly lit and it would not help her anxiety at all.

She silently walked the streets, keeping her phone in her hand in case of anything that might happen. Yeah, she was a bit paranoid, but it was better to be on edge than to not think about it and be caught by surprise. She fixed her braid a little and continued to walk down the streets of Shinto without letting her gaze off of her surroundings.

The bridge was only a few blocks away when she heard a cry from one of the alley ways between the many buildings. Her steps stopped short and she tilted her head towards the sound. She should be walking faster, not stopping at a time like this.

Her heart was starting to settle until she heard the sound again. It was a female screaming out for help. She felt a chill run down her spine and then she quickly ran towards the scream without even thinking twice. It wasn't until she was halfway down the alley way that she realized what she was doing and stopped dead in her tracks again.

"Why am I doing this?" She questioned herself as she stared into the darkness in front of her. There was an urge inside of her to keep running towards the high pitched screaming, but her reasoning had her feet rooted to the ground. The noise was making her twitch and feel uncomfortable, making her want to turn on her heel and runaway, but there was still that feeling to run into the darkness to help the troubled person.

Jeanne recalled her dream and then she searched her backpack for the contracted banner she had put inside. She found it and noticed that it appeared to be gleaming or shinning. She took it in her hand and threw her bag on the floor before running into the darkness after the agonizing screams. The Frenchwoman was unsure of what she was planning to do when she got there, but whatever it was, she hoped she would be alive afterwards.

Jeanne walked in on a dark figure with a jagged dagger in hand and standing over a—hopefully—unconscious woman. Upon seeing the sight before her, she instinctively took a step back and clicked the button on the staff before it extended so that she could have a weapon to defend herself with. So, how exactly was she supposed to save someone with such a lame weapon?

"Come to join the party, little girl?" The deep voice came from the dark faceless figure.

The Frenchwoman tightened her grip on the banner and held it in front of her as some sort of defensive pose, "W-who are you?"

The person before her frowned and she realized they did have a face—but she couldn't recognize them as a single person. There were many faces on theirs and she was feeling more confused than before, "You have yet to hear of me? What a shame." They shook their head, "Jack the Ripper, sweetheart, in the flesh." Their voice held delight, "Or not…"

Jeanne took a deep breath and remembered the news that had talked about a serial murderer on the loose and she mentally scolded herself for forgetting something so important.

"Are you planning to ward me off with that mere banner?" The person's eyes landed on her staff and she too was thinking twice about her weapon of choice. They took a step closer and she took her own step back.

The moonlight shun down on them and Jeanne was starting to fear this was the last time she would see it.

The person held the dagger a little tighter and lifted it so that it could take her down but Jeanne was able to dodge it and hit 'Jack the Ripper' with her staff. She tried to escape but something caught her hoodie and she was sent back flying.

Her back hit a wall and the wind was knocked out of her lungs. She wheezed and coughed before trying to reach for the banner that had been discarded a few feet away.

She lifted her gaze from the banner to the person that approached her upon hearing the deep voice again, "Now, now, try to participate a little; no screaming, darling." They held a finger to their lips and then they managed a shrug, "Or maybe a little."

Jeanne groaned in pain and crawled a little faster towards the banner, "Make me strong, please," she mumbled under her breath as her aching hand landed on the banner. Her eyes shut as a blinding light radiated from the staff and she heard Jack the Ripper groan.

She opened her violet eyes to see the person was a few feet further than they initially were. Immediately feeling a little better, she stood and noted that the white banner had filled with golden Fleur-de-lis and the metal staff was decorated with the words "La Pucelle" and flowers that resembled Irises.

"The little lady earned herself a new costume." The person grinned, "You're looking rather spiffy, sweetheart."

Jeanne realized that she was indeed wearing something else. She had a purple skirt to her mid calves and thigh highs. Silver armour cladded her feet, arms and stomach as there was a headdress placed effortlessly on her head.

"Enough games, don't you think?" Jack sighed and lifted the dagger again, "Let us dance."

They approached her at a high speed but Jeanne was able to dodge the blow, using her banner to propel herself to the right. She huffed and turned back to the figure.

"You finally put that thing to good use, I see." Jack turned to her and ran at her again. This time around, Jeanne was not able to dodge as fast and she earnt a scratch on her cheek.

The blond female took a step back and crouched down before trying to hit the faceless person with her banner. Instead of blocking the next attack, she was thrown across the alley way once again; shattering bricks behind her as she hit another building.

 _Weren't superheroes supposed to have super strength?_ She questioned in her mind as she stood with a groan, feeling something warm emitting from the back of her head and slipping down her neck. She charged again at the dark figure but the reckless strategy got her nowhere.

She was knocked off her feet and thrown against the floor as a hand clasped around her neck, "I really wanted to have more fun with you but you are a little too troublesome, I think I should kill you." The deep voice hissed and Jeanne reached up to try and pry the hands away.

"Nuh, uh, darling. You can't get away this time." After Jack spoke, the smile faded from their lips and they growled, "What do you think you're doing?"

"I can ask you the same thing. Drop the dagger and I won't run you through." Jeanne could feel the grip on her neck loosen a little to let her breath but not enough to let her fight back for the hard hit she took against the wall depleted her strength greatly.

"You drop the cursed lance and I won't kill the maid." Jack replied.

"Gae…"

The dagger was removed from the throat and the grip was completely gone as she watched the dark figure stand and reveal a man in blue behind them, "The cops are here anyways." She finally realized the sirens and relief washed over her, "But don't think I'm done with you, _Pucelle_." They hissed and then disappeared into the shadows.

Jeanne gulped, in pain, and rested her head back down on the pavement as the sirens got louder and louder.

"Hello there, lass." She heard the male grin down at her, "I see you're all _grounded_." The man laughed at his own pun as she had literally been lying on the floor.

She slowly sat up and glared at him, "Thank you," she mumbled after she had realized he had been the one to save her life.

"All in a day's work for a hero." The man winked a ruby eye at her and then offered a hand, "Here, let me help you up."

Her eyes skimmed the man's hand and she shook her head, "How do I know you aren't evil as well?"

"Fiesty, I see." The man laughed, "I am the Hound of Ulster, nice to meet you, goddess."

She managed to stand with the help of her banner and a few groans, "La Pucelle," she replied quietly.

"Ah, that's why he called you a maid." Then the blue haired man lifted a bag, "Is this yours, lass?"

Jeanne took the bag from his hands and gave him a nod, "I don't like guys that flirt." She eyed after noticing his handsome features, a mask covering part of his face.

"And I don't like weak girls, so we're on the same page here."

"I'm not weak!" She argued as she rolled her shoulders and heard the doors of the cars opening down the alley way.

A strong arm wrapped around her waist and hoisted her up, "No time to fight, let's go."

"Let go of me," she gasped as the Hound of Ulster took her along with him as he jumped from building to building.

"No can do, little lass." The man continued to jump and Jeanne took note that he had especial jumping abilities because man could he jump high and far. He finally set her on top of the red bridge and gave her a wide smile, "Well, I must admit you are gorgeous."

Jeanne took a step back and furrowed her brows as she drew a hand to her chest, "Excuse me?" She felt awfully dizzy but she ruled it to the height of the bridge.

"You need a lot of help with your fighting, but you have potential." The man seemed a little anxious and tried to keep his gaze on her and not the edge of the red structure.

Jeanne suddenly remembered the other female that had been left in the alleyway, "What bout that woman?"

"She's alive and the police are taking care of it." The male fixed his pony tail as he spoke, "Well, my boss wants to know if you want to join our little league, what do you say?"

Jeanne rubbed her head where it had hit the wall and felt a warm liquid before she drew her hand to look back at it, "I-I'm bleeding." She mumbled and felt herself tumbling back before her vision went black.


	3. All About The Agency

Her head felt heavy as her eyes opened and tried to settle their spinning. She felt unsteady and she dared not sit up, but the cold high ceiling brought her to reality. Her head ached as she sat up slowly and she felt her arms protest against her but her will to see the room around her had her more determined. The coldness of the room caused her quite a bit of uneasiness, nothing was familiar. It was cold and almost dark; so foreign and frightening. There was only metal furniture around her, against the white tiled room. The bed was the only thing that was not made out of metal, but the stiff white sheets made up for that.

The door knob rattled before the door creaked open. A girl about Jeanne's height entered the room, white long pigtails reaching to about her thighs and a white fringe. She had a big red hat perched upon her head and matching attire. The red silk gloves contrasted the knee-high white and golden boots she wore so proudly. She almost looked like a queen, "Bonjour, ma Cherie." The female spoke, a bright cheerful smile on her lips as her blue eyes glinted, "Are you feeling better?"

Jeanne furrowed her brows and slowly nodded in order to answer her question, "W-Who are you? Where am I? What is this place?" The questions flooded the room as if a dam had been broken.

The female giggled and nodded, "I understand your confusion, my dear, I also wanted this room to be a bit more…bright, if you may. It is rather gloomy, on my part. But the Agency said it wasn't supposed to be luxurious, such a pity…I could have made this look like Versailles." She shook her head, "That was probably not your question, though…"

Jeanne simply blinked, not quite understanding anything that was going on.

"You are at the Holy Grail Agency's Headquarters. We usually go by H.G.A, and I am Marie Antoinette; the director and head hero of this agency. It is a pleasure to meet you, ma Pucelle."

"I…"

Marie smiled again and sighed, "Now, I bet you are wondering what 'The Holy Grail Agency' is, am I correct?"

"I am so lost, what is going on? What happened? Why am I even here?" Jeanne rubbed her head and kept her eye on the girl who claimed her name was Marie Antoinette.

"I think," Marie clasped her red-clothed hands together, "that we should speak of this somewhere much more…adequate. It's quite gloomy in here. Do you mind following me?"

"I don't even know who you are. How am I sure you won't hurt me?"

Marie shrugged, "My agency doesn't hurt people, or non-people. We care about life much more than you think. You would easily have been dead by now. The Hound saved you from Jack, and I believe that's all the proof you need in order to trust us. Not to mention he also saved you from falling off the bridge."

Jeanne slowly slipped out of the stiff bed and felt the coldness of the floor slip into her feet. She retracted them and looked about the room for her shoes, but she did not see them.

"They're on the other side of the bed," Marie spoke before going over and passing her the armoured heels.

The white haired female led her out the door and down a short corridor. Upon reaching the end of it, Jeanne came to see how big the agency was. To the right, there was a huge arena past the glass that separated the corridor from it, and to her left there was what she believed was intelligence. The arena was filled with obstacle courses and weaponry of all sorts. She was in awe of the huge space before her, where on earth was this place.

"I see you like the arena," Marie commented as she had seen the amazement in the other female's eyes.

Jeanne turned her head away from the arena and towards the woman next to her, "Ah, it's impressive."

"You would be practicing there along with all our other heroes. You would have a partner assigned to you for field work, and there would be another partner that would help you from here, in the intelligence side. We refer to the intelligence as Masters; they help you with tactics and escape routes in case of anything that might happen."

"That is all very interesting, miss, but I still have no idea what is going on."

"The Holy Grail Agency is a group of superheroes that protect the city. We protect against crime and mana-related crimes as well. The villains we fight are something special, or they can also be normal crime makers or unorganized and organized crime. We fight everyone and anyone. Intelligence are normal people with some level of mage craft and our field division have powers that no other humans have. You would be recruited for our field division." Marie explained as they continued to walk the glass corridor.

Although the corridor was a little elevated from both the other platforms, she noted something out of the corner of her eye. What seemed like an arrow was shot their way and Jeanne's first instinct was to pull out the staff from her belt and protect the woman behind her.

The arrow was deflected by the thick glass and only a soft thud resonated in the corridor, "Worry not, Pucelle, we are completely safe in here. I had this built specially for this, or else our poor intelligence side would already be completely wrecked." Marie giggled, she was more like a little child, even her face demonstrated a young age.

Jeanne glanced down at the people in the arena and noted a man clad in gold looking up at them, "Who is that?" She blinked.

Marie followed her gaze and sighed, "One of our most troublesome 'heroes', he is a little difficult—in fact, he is the one who aimed the arrow at us. Although he is troublesome, he is over powered and a great addition against our insane enemies. His nickname is King of Heroes and he loves Gold, hence the armour."

Jeanne slowly nodded as the man drifted their gaze from them towards a short female that seemed as if she was arguing with him, "There are a lot of them…"

"You'll get to meet them all when you're down there. But for now, we can discuss more about the agency and how you would definitely benefit us." The other female skipped down the rest of the hallway and Jeanne followed silently behind.

They entered a bright room, that was well arranged. A huge rounded table in the middle and chairs surrounding it. The table seemed to be made out of stone and there was a line of writing in an ancient language that made a ring around it.

"Take a seat," Marie instructed as she went to sit down at a chair. All the chairs were different, now that Jeanne noted. They all had some sort of design, and Marie's had a fleur-de-lis and upon it a crown. The chair beside it holding a crown alike and a dragon holding a rose beneath it, "Anywhere is fine, as no one is going to be with us other than the Hound of Ulster."

Jeanne's violet gaze flickered to the female as the name was mentioned and she recalled the anxious man on the red bridge. She looked back down at the chairs and sat at a random one before they silently waited for the male to join them.

"Alright," the door opened, "you had me stop my training with mister pretty face and had me shoved in a shower before telling me to go to an important meeting. This must be _fucking_ important." The blue haired man still wore the mask over his ruby eyes even though her was shirtless and had a towel around his neck, which he held onto with both hands on either side. Water trickled down his hair and puddled around him.

Marie cleared her throat, "My dear hound, please present yourself a little more _modestly_. The poor maiden doesn't want to see you shirtless, let alone wet all over and causing my new carpet to get drenched. It costs quite a lot to clean that, mister."

The man glared at her, "What maiden? You are no maiden, Marie." He nearly growled.

Marie chuckled, "That is no way to speak to your boss, my good sir, and I meant La Pucelle—not me."

The hound shot his head towards the other girl, whom he had not noticed earlier and yelped, "Sorry, lass." He bit his lower lip, "If you would excuse me for a second." He did as he had said and left the room. A few minutes later he entered again and fully dressed this time, hair still a little wet.

"Good, now that we are all gathered here, we can speak about what happened. Pucelle, as I have explained, we are an agency that defends the people," Marie began, "Yesterday, you encountered a Berserker-class villain. They go by the name Jack the Ripper, their true gender or identity is unknown to us, as of now. Jack is commonly known as the Serial Killer who has been targeting prostitute women. Back in England, they made quite the mess and one day, they suddenly disappeared. A few months later," she opened a folder that had been perched upon the table in front of her.

"They attacked again, in Japan this time around," the man spoke, "They've been killing many women, and you happened to meet them yesterday. We've been trying to get a hold of Jack since we were in Europe, but now, it seems that Fuyuki is going under most of these attacks. Not only Jack has come here, but many Caster class villains too."

Jeanne furrowed her brows and leaned onto the table, "I was attacked by a serial killer?" She mumbled.

"Yes, well, more or less," Marie answered. "But, you have showed courage and determination and we have deducted that you are of a Ruler-class hero and you are specialized in defense rather than offence. With the magnitude of power that you posses, you can save Fuyuki from even the King of Heroes. What do you say? You can join us and keep your city safe from evil and you are a courageous girl with an amazing sense of justice."

Jeanne silently sat in her seat, fidgeting with her gauntlets, unsure of what to say to the people before her. She then lifted her head and looked at the blue-haired man, "Thank you for rescuing me, sir," her face then drifted to Marie, "and thank you for nursing me back to health. But I am afraid that I cannot do this as it is very dangerous and my brother would most likely disapprove."

"Well," Marie smiled sweetly, "Think about it, my dear, we will await your answer. Though, you might want to hurry home as your brother might worry."

"What time is it?" The high schooler furrowed her brows and her heart began to beat rapidly in her chest.

"Two in the morning." The other female stated with the smile still on her lips.

"My brother is going to kill me!" She stood from the chair, "How do I deactivate this thing? Oh no!" Jeanne panicked as she looked down at her attire, "No, I can't show up like this!"

"Chill out, honey, I'm sure you'll get it off by the time you get home. If not I can totally help you undress," A ruby eye winked and Jeanne shot the man a glare before grabbing her banner from the table and quickly starting to leave the room.

She stood still by the door and realized she had no knowledge of the way out, "Um…"

Marie giggled and stood from the table as well, "Hound, please lead her to the exit… actually, help her home as she is still hurt."

"You mean halfway home?" The Hound lifted an eyebrow as he reminded the other about secret identities.

Jeanne nodded slowly and followed the tall man out the door and back towards the glass corridor.


	4. Midnight Troubles

Jeanne was doing quite well with walking in heavy heels, but not with a banged up head. She was a little wobbly and the boy next to her had offered her a hand. After denying him a hand for about seven times, she gave up and took it for she was very, very wobbly, "You don't have to walk me all the way home, you know?"

"I'm not walking you all the way home, lass, only halfway there. You still have this whole secret identity thing. I mean, as much as I would love to know who you are in real life, I have some reserve." He had a smile on his face as he helped her stabilize herself.

"So, um, in all honesty, do you like being a hero, I guess?" She wasn't exactly sure what to call the vigilante work that they were doing without sounding rude.

The male shrugged, "Yeah, I guess I do. How are you liking it so far? Are you planning to join us?" He tilted his head as he looked at her.

She blinked and shrugged, "It's hard, I'll admit. But, if I help the people… I guess that it's the only way." Jeanne gave her answer, her lips in a straight line. She had been thinking about it on her way back and she was starting to think it wasn't such a bad idea.

"So, you're one of the only ones that doesn't have a mask to cover up your identity. Are you going to pull a superman and wear glasses in your real life? The King of Heroes is the only one that doesn't wear a mask or anything… but I still don't exactly know who he is. When you get assigned to partners, they usually get to be the one's who know; which means that the King of Knights knows his true identity."

"The King of Knights?" Jeanne looked at her escort, who had a pensive look on his facial features.

"A short girl that is clad in silver and blue. They were partnered up because of their extreme powers which are rather unique. The girl holds a Holy Sword and she is great in combat. Actually pretty face loves to spar with her. The flirt when fighting, trust, there is just so much sexual tension between them and then they deny it."

Jeanne laughed at the boy gossiping, "Is pretty face the King of Heroes?" She raised an eyebrow and the Hound chuckled.

"Oh, goodness no! Pretty face goes by the name "Frist Knight of Fianna", most people just call him pretty face or love spot. He's handsome, so don't go falling in love with him." The Hound of Ulster shook his head, "He's a good man and my best friend in the Agency. He's paired up with the King of Conquerors and their master is this little kid. I think his name is Waver Velvet."

"What about you, who's your partner and master?" She asked.

"Master is Bazette; she's a total babe and super awesome. She's also Irish just like me, so that's a plus! But," he frowned, "I don't have a partner. You would be my partner if you join, so how about it?"

"Then I will." She smiled at him, "But I hope this won't interfere with my school work or I won't get home with unexplainable broken bones." She mumbled. "That woman… I wouldn't have been able to save her life if I didn't get caught up in this whole superhero thing, so I am very happy for that."

The red-eyed male chuckled, "Ah yes," he nodded, "That's how I felt the first time around. Although I won't admit it much, it's really nice to help people out."

Jeanne nodded, "It is." She spoke before they arrived at an intersection near her house, "People probably think we're crazy." She then giggled.

"Why?" The hound asked, his blue mask hiding the fact that one of his eyebrows rose in question.

Jeanne furrowed her brows as a smile decorated her lips, "What do you mean you don't know?" Her violet eyes dropped to what the man wore and she pointed at her very own attire, "They probably think we're cosplaying or something."

The male laughed and shook his head, "I barely even think about that." He smirked as they both stopped in their tracks. He gave her a two-fingered salute and a goofy smile before bowing slightly, "Well, milady, I think this is where we must depart." He then reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, "It was a pleasure to meet such a brave and lovely lass."

"I thought you said I was weak…" She eyed him, a light blush on her cheeks.

"Well, you are, but that can always be fixed." He winked one of his red eyes, "Hopefully I'll see you again."

Jeanne managed to climb into her room through the window, which had proved to be rather difficult even with 'superpowers'. The banner had helped her quite a lot as it had brought her up to her window, but breaking in to her room was another story—technically on another story too. She tried to pry the window open a couple of times but remembered she had locked it, so she took her banner and almost smashed the window in before she saw the door of her room open and a little boy stumbling in.

She was unsure if she should knock on the window for the little boy to let her in but there was no other way she could enter without getting in trouble. The little boy made his way to the window and unlocked it before opening it for his older sister, "Are you an angel?" He tilted his head and rubbed one of his eyes with his small chubby hand, his voice sleep driven and amazed.

"Pierre," she brought a finger to her lips as she slipped into the room, "You must keep silent and not tell anyone of this, not even Jean."

The following day, she woke up to the alarm. She was curled on her bed, snuggled up next to her little brother—who lay sleeping like a little baby. She groaned as she slowly sat up, feeling the weight of her head aching in her back. Her feet hit the floor right as she stretched her arms and looking down at her night gown, she realized she had somehow changed out of the outfit; without any knowledge of how she had come to fall asleep either. It had almost felt like a dream, if it weren't for her aching back.

Her violet eyes caught a glimpse of the banner (that was now back to it's original state) leaning neatly against the wall. She reached for it and proceeded to retract it with the simple press of a button. Her eyes landed on her brother and seeing as he was still asleep, she gave a short smile and shoved the banner into the bag she had used the previous day; it was her last day of work before school started and she was feeling quite indifferent. She headed towards the washroom after she had collected a change of clothes and hurried to take a shower as quickly as she could.

After changing, she glanced at the mirror and was surprised to see herself so beat up—she almost gasped. Her neck was clearly bruised from the choking and she had scratches on her face, not to mention the bags under her eyes. She sighed and closed her eyes before checking the drawer for her make-up; she never usually wore it but her brother would question her scratches and she made a mental note to change into a turtle neck after leaving the bathroom. There was only one scratch that she was unable to cover up fully, but she thought her brother would not even notice.

After having shoved on a purple turtle neck, she glanced at Pierre and quickly kissed his forehead before hurrying down the stairs. Upon reaching the kitchen, she saw her big brother reading from a newspaper, "Have fun yesterday?" He asked, tilting his head to the right and lifting it so that his eyes would land on her.

"Uhm, I thought you were still asleep…" She tried to suppress her sudden anxiety and surprise. Her lips stretched to a small smile and then her gaze drifted towards the fridge.

Jean stood and poured himself a cup of coffee, filing the room with the warm an sweet aroma. The sun slipped through the blinds and managed to heat up the kitchen from the cool morning breeze. The ice in the fridge settled, adding at least some noise to the room before her brother took a deep breath, "We were worried sick; grand father couldn't sleep and I had to force him to bed and Pierre was constantly restless. Where were you?"

"I am very sorry for worrying you both. I know that I did wrong in coming in late. I'm safe and that is all that matters. I am very, very sorry." She gave a short nod, "I must be off to work now." After grabbing a muffin from the fridge and a juice box, she turned back to her brother, "I promise to be on time today."

The male rolled his eyes and frowned, raising and eyebrow, "You did not answer my question, you do know that… Where were you? At ten in the evening, you sent me a text that you were on your way home and you get here past three. I'm going to tell father; I hope you know that."

"Jean, I already apologized. I'm very sorry that I came late, I got caught up in trivial matters," She couldn't exactly say she had nearly died, transformed into some weird anime magical girl and then been offered to work at a superhero agency; her brother would think she was delusional, "I am very sorry."

"What time are you getting home today?" He tilted his head, making evident that he was beyond annoyed with her attitude.

She pushed her hair over her shoulder and bit her lower lip, "I will send you a text an hour in advance." She was unsure what was to come later that day and if it involved any crazy adventures.

* * *

That evening, Jeanne shook her head slowly and locked up the shop before heading home. She had told her brother that she would be late and would arrive around midnight, if not before. Although, she was very unsure what to do for three hours. The city was a huge place; she was bound to find something to do or someone to protect.

Slapping her cheeks, she proceeded to rub her face and heave in disappointment. She was making her way home, slowly and nothing was happening. Well, it wasn't like every corner had a crime, but she wished something would make its appearance so that she could finally get to join the agency; officially.

The young Frenchwoman had thought about it all throughout her shift and she settled that it was better to have a teammate to help her; especially one that was able to fight back for her. She was not one for attack, so when Marie had told her that her domain was defense, she completely agreed. Other than the blue-masked man, there was another face engraved in her mind; King of Heroes.

The King of Heroes seemed cold to her, as if standing in front of him would cause an entire snow blizzard to cast upon you and the only way out was to somehow understand his mind. That boy was cold to the touch, she knew that just by the expression he had given her and the girl he had been arguing with.

It was a hand that had landed on her shoulder that caused her to jump and quickly turn to grab it. It wasn't until she had twisted the arm that she noticed the person was of no threat, "Gilles, what are you doing here?" She furrowed her brows as she slowly let go of the wrist.

"Ouch," he mumbled as he rubbed his wrist, "You were ready to break it, weren't you?"

Jeanne innocently laughed and nodded, "Of course, I thought I was in danger."

The street light flickered a little before illuminating their path with a steady beam once more, "I was waiting for you to finish work, hoping I could accompany you home. I heard a woman was attacked yesterday night and the perpetrator is still out there… So I decided to check up on you." It was still nine in the evening but it was quite dark outside now. The moon and stars were doing their best but it was the streetlights and busy roads that kept the city as bright as it could possibly be.

"How, um, how is the woman doing?" She slowly mumbled, afraid of what the boy would say, her hands were shaking a little bit; what if she had not actually saved the lady?

Gilles gulped, "Some broken bones and a concussion, but she is alive and there were no signs of sexual assault, so that's always good to hear."

Jeanne nodded promptly, "I do hope she recovers quickly."


	5. Two Kings and a Mad Dog

The red bridge seemed to go on forever for Jeanne as she remembered that The Hound of Ulster had taken her there after she fought with Jack the Ripper. Her mind was only focused on that, so when Gilles had been calling her, his voice flew over her until he softly shook her.

"Earth to Jeanne, are you okay there?" Gilles de Rais gave her a lopsided frown, "You spaced out for a while."

Jeanne leaned back from him and shook her head as to get the image of Jack the Ripper out of her mind, "Uh, yeah, I'm just a little out of it… What were you saying?"

Gilles chuckled at the absentmindedness of his short friend, "I was asking when you were free so you could meet my new friend. Ryuunosuke really wants to meet you because you are my best friend and all, I really want you guys to meet because I think you'll have a lot in common."

"That hadn't crossed my mind," she mumbled, "After school would be perfect, for me at least." She answered the boy's lingering question upon reaching the end of the bridge.

"That's settled then. Ryuu is in University so I'm not quite sure how his schedule is looking but I'm certain he'll have some time in between to get to meet you." The dark blue hair contrasted to the Hound's bright and lively hair style of the man that was haunting Jeanne with mystery.

"Um," Jeanne began, "what if I joined the army?" Even before finding the Holy Grail Agency she had thought about it; quite a few times. It seemed as if it was always there in the back of her head, and she had seriously considered it but when she had mentioned it to her mother, the woman flipped tables.

"Why would you want to do that?" To Gilles it seemed Jeanne always forgot that she had mentioned the army to him, she used to talk about it a lot but one day she completely stopped, and here she was again with such a different dream. You see, other kids in class hoped to be scientists, astronauts, or politicians, but all Jeanne ever wanted was to become a soldier for some unknown reason, "I thought you'd given up."

The blonde breathed in and frowned, lifting a hand to push her hair behind her ear, "I've just been thinking about it again… I tried to think of something else that I could do with my life but becoming a soldier is really the only thing that calls to me."

There was silence, only their footsteps filling their ears, until Jeanne heard the male's lips part, "Then how about we join together once we finish school."

The girl laughed, "Since when did you want to join?" She tilted her head, her voice changing the tone of the conversation; dragging it out from the melancholy it held, "You aren't army material."

"Hey," he barked, "I told you I'd follow you wherever you went." The was a smirk on his face even if he was trying to sound upset with her comment, "Plus, I am army material; you're the elf here."

Jeanne faked an offended gasp as she drew a hand to her chest, "Back it up, I am not an elf. Your flesh maybe strong but your spirit is weak for the army, big boy."

Gilles rolled his eyes and wrapped an arm around Jeanne's shoulder, bringing her into a loose chokehold and then nudged her head, ruffling her hair in the process, "Grr," her purposely growled, "Bad kid, bad kid."

Jeanne was laughing all throughout the ordeal, her gentle giggles filling the silent suburban street as she flailed about, "Release, release," she tapped his arm because she was laughing too much.

The boy let go of her and ruffled her hair one last time before retracting his hands and shoving them in his pockets, "You're too soft," he retorted, letting a chuckle slip.

Pouting, she crossed her arms over her chest, "We'll see about that." As they continued to walk past a park there was a loud bang that made both the teenagers jump in surprise. Jeanne immediately turned towards the commotion and was about to run towards it when Gilles stopped her.

"That's dangerous! What is wrong with you!" He was amazed by how un-phased she was.

Cracking a smile, she shrugged, "That is the exact attitude that does not make you fit for the army."

" _That_ ," he looked her over, "is the exact attitude that gets you killed!"

Dropping her smile and shaking him off she gave him _the_ look; the one she always gave him when she had to do something and there was nothing he could do to stop her. Oh, how he hated that look in her eyes—she could be very persistent and stubborn, "Jeanne, don't you dare."

Another bang cut through the silence like a sharp blade would with flesh, "I have to make sure no one's hurt." She then ran into the park.

"Ugh," Gilles kicked an imaginary rock, "This idiot." He scratched his head and then ran after her, "Why does she always do this to me?"

It surprised Jeanne when she saw what looked like a dark knight; armour almost purple with a huge sword in hand and black wind seeping from his armour (haziness surrounding him as well), fighting a female clad in blue and silver. Her jaw dropped at the realization that this was the King of Knights that Marie had mentioned. She had almost missed the Golden man standing a top of a street light if it weren't for the snide comment he made and a blade almost hitting the crazy knight.

Jeanne took a step back and bumped into the male that had run after her; they were both stunned to see the display before them and could not say a single word—but it had to be Gilles to speak up, catching the attention of what seemed like the villain in the picture.

An almost robotic turn of a head followed by a growl had Jeanne and Gilles turning back towards the road. But the vibrant red crack in the helmet had appeared in front of Jeanne within seconds. Swallowing her gasp Jeanne stepped back as Gilles had not even realized and kept running ahead.

"U-uh, m-maybe we can talk about it?" The dark figure kept approaching her, movements unpredictable as it seemed they were possessed with great anger and irrationality.

A sword was shot, landing only inches away from her arm, successfully diverting the attention of the erratic man from her to the King of Heroes on the street light, "I'm not trying to save you, do not get the wrong idea. The mad dog just disrespected me; diverting his attention to a squirrel."

The 'mad dog', as the King so referred him as, pulled the sword from the floor. His touch altering the design of the previously golden sword to what looked like a metal the colour of charcoal with cracks of red all throughout it.

"Not again, I thought I told you to _not_ lay your filthy hands on my treasures!" The street light cracked below the man and Jeanne saw what looked like gold pools form behind the unmasked 'hero' and her eyes widen at the realization of what he was about to do.

The dark knight roared, his movements seeming more like turbulence on a plane. Jeanne reached towards her backpack but it was not fast enough for the King of Heroes sent his weapons flying towards both the 'mad dog' and her (as he was only a few feet in front of her).

She braced from the impact but instead, she was knocked to the side, the armoured female deflecting some of the weapons. It was only then that Jeanne had realized the woman seemed to have a transparent weapon, or at least made out of air because there was a constant air gust that came from her clasped hands.

When the weapons cleared, the dark knight stood unaffected one last roar before he disappeared into the depths of the night.

"Have you lost your mind? You nearly killed her!" The woman began to bark just after the other knight disappeared.

The clacking of golden armour was heard as the man jumped from the street light and made his way towards Jeanne, not even paying the slightest attention to his partner. A golden pool gave him one sword and he continued towards the French girl that was frozen on the floor.

"Are you even listening to me?" The other female groaned, "Are you in your right mind?"

Pointing the sword towards Jeanne, the male gave her a glare, "No hard feelings, squirrel."

With her own weapon, the blonde knocked his sword, making it land far away, "What is wrong with you!" It was more of a statement than a question, "You are supposed to protect people not murder them!"

Jeanne slowly reached into her backpack, pulling out her contracted banner silently so that the male would not see her as an immediate threat. If he tried anything else, she would be ready for it, even if it meant fighting someone from the Holy Grail Agency.

"She was in my way, and I would have killed that mongrel if it weren't for her! Instead, he got away."

The female grunted at her partner's response and turned back towards Jeanne, digging into her pocket and pulling out a green stone, "Are you alright?"

Jeanne looked at the stone with caution and slowly nodded her head.

"This little thing is to help you stay silent." She lifted the stone a bit, "Instead of killing you," green eyes glanced at the male with a short glare before looking back to the girl that remained on the floor, "We use this to erase your memory, almost like Men in Black, if you may."

"I don't need that. I need to speak with Marie instead." Jeanne blinked, catching the attention of the male.

Red eyes narrowed on her, "What did you just say?" The sword that had been discarded was gone now.

Pressing the button on her staff, almost frightening the two young adults before her, she stood with its help, "Marie Antoinette, I want to officially join the HGA."

A cough left the female knight's lips, "H-How do you…?"

The stupid part was that she revealed her true identity to the other two, who seemed quite surprised by her actions. A thought occurred to Jeanne, maybe the green stone could work for them…

"It's you!" The King of Heroes' eyes widened a bit, "You're the new recruit. Well, definitely this means you are one of those idiots who simply charges into action without a second thought."

Jeanne closed her eyes, hoping that her transformation would somehow be activated, but it wasn't. Instead, she earned a slight slap on her face. Opening her eyes, she felt a little offended.

"What was that for, Gil?" The green eyed girl gasped.

"What?" Gil, as it seemed to be his name (or an alias), groaned, "She had that face."

The King of Knights tilted her head, furrowing her brows, "What face?" She asked, trying to convey her irritation in her straight tone.

"The one that is asking for a slap… I didn't even slap her that hard, okay?" Red eyes rolled before the man turned around, "Then let's take her to Headquarters."


	6. Training

Jeanne had found herself in the same room that she had been in before, the one with the round table. Her purple eyes were simply skimming over the sight before her. She was seated at a different seat now, she had not really focused on which one. The King of Knights was at the chair with the Dragon while the King of Heroes had taken his place at one with what seemed like a lion and a castle; both on either side of the chair she recognized to be Marie Antoinette's. The blonde male was tapping his fingers on the table, metal against wood seemed to have a specific pattern as it filled her ears in high pitches.

Jeanne had not been able to change into her alter ego and so the female knight had lent her a cape to cover herself. The silence was unbearable and just as the Frenchwoman had opened her mouth to speak she was stopped by the soft groan the door made when it was opened.

The young woman entered the room, her pigtails just making her seem too much like a child. The black and red skirt was bouncing along with her every step, "Pucelle, it is a pleasure to see you again. How do you do?"

"Well, thank you, and yourself?" Jeanne replied, sitting up straight in her chair so that she did not seem tired.

Marie took a seat and blinked, "How come you are not in uniform?"

She bit her lower lip and sighed, "Actually," the embarrassment was starting to fill her inside and out, "I cannot do so on command. I don't know how to activate the costume."

"Oh," Marie nodded, understanding the situation for this had happened to some of her heroes before, especially the First Knight of Fianna, "We will help you with that. I'm quite sure you'll be able to activate it at any given moment if we do some exercises. Until then, when you come, make sure you wear a mask; I don't want to have to use the stone on everyone."

"Yes, of course," the recruit nodded promptly, a soft smile on her lips, "When do I start?"

"Tomorrow would be great. You would need to go through a bit of training before we take you out to the field, though."

"Perfect!" That was easier said than done, you see. The following day, the poor girl was put before a long obstacle course. Many eyes were on her and she could feel them burning through her body. She took note, after seeing many new faces, that the Hound of Ulster was nowhere to be found. It wasn't until Marie had barked at the rest of the heroes to resume their training so that Jeanne would not feel pressure while preforming the obstacle course.

There seemed to be many different stages to the course; and they only got progressively harder as the obstacles furthest away from her seemed to frighten her.

Marie looked around the arena to find someone she knew would have patience and coach the girl to the best of their abilities. Her blue eyes caught site of the particular hero she had been searching for and then she called him over. Beauty incarnated, Jeanne was presented with a type of person she would have never imagined would even talk to her. The female gulped as the man before her ran a hand through his hair, the other holding two lances between his fingers. His spandex uniform did not fail to show the perfect physique of the man, every single groove in his body was completely visible. Curly hair had been brushed back but a little lock of it dangled between his eyes.

"Pucelle?" Marie questioned, aware of how the younger female was stunned to see the handsome man. She watched as Jeanne snapped out of her daze and shot her head towards her, a blush on her cheeks as she had realized that she had been staring at him too much.

"Y-yes?" She was starstruck when she saw those honey-caramel eyes against a green mask that caused the pit of her stomach to churn because damn was the man handsome.

"This is the First Knight of Fianna," Marie introduced them, "And this is La Pucelle. Mister pretty face here will be the one to help you get in shape, he is a very patient man, I promise you wont be judged by him, in fact, he's even going to be very encouraging."

The First Knight bowed his head, a smile on his face as he extended a hand. She too did the same, expecting that he would shake it, but instead her brought it to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on it, "Pleasure to meet you, milady." His voice was not flirty, like the Hound's, but rather very soothing and deep. He was a true gentleman.

"Now, skidadle and get to work," Marie smiled before turning about, her heels clicking against the arena floor as she disappeared back into the many hallways.

The man turned back towards Jeanne and gave her another nod, "I heard you're new." He seemed to have regret that sentence after he had said it because his cheeks slightly lit up, "Haha, I mean, of course you are, I've never seen you about."

Jeanne smiled, "It's a pleasure to meet you, First Knight."

"Indeed," he gave a prompt nod, "Should we commence training?"

The short female nodded, albeit a bit reluctantly as the obstacle course was quite a bit intimidating. She rolled her shoulders and tried to clear her mind, if she so wanted to join the army, then she would have been prepared to finish this obstacle course.

The man remained just simply looking at her, blinking a couple of times, "Aren't you going to pull out your weapon or anything?" He seemed a bit confused as to why she was just standing there.

"Ah," Jeanne bit her lower lip, "about that…Yeah, I have no idea how to activate it, honestly." She scratched her shoulder, truly embarrassed by the fact.

"Oh," The knight nodded, "I completely understand you. God knows I didn't know how to activate it as well. We'll figure it out along the way, for now, let's begin. In this dome, you are able to use your weapons but they won't harm other heroes, I don't exactly know the details of how it works, thus I would not be the person to ask for these sort of things. But always feel free to speak with your master about any mana related questions; I'm sure they will help you as Waver helps me."

"Thank you!" Jeanne gave a deep bow, "Thank you."

"Oh, there's no need to thank me," He immediately grabbed her by the shoulder and stopped her from bowing a second time, "you need not bow either."

Nodding rapidly, the short female gave a short smile, "Okay."

The obstacle course began with quite a hard section; monkey bars, of sorts. Basically, she held on to a bar and she had to move it, not just swing from bar to bar. She took a deep breath as she looked at it and nodded to assure herself that she could do it. There was a bowl of what looked like white chalk dust and she dipped her hands in it.

Her first attempt to move it was a failure, as well as her second, and third, and even fourth. She fell onto a cushioned pit over and over again with a small squeak every time around. The cushion blocks were starting to get to know her a little too well as her irritation for not being able to move a simple bar was starting to grow.

"I just can't do it!" The beautiful man had offered her a hand for the umpteenth out of the pit.

"Of course you can, every one starts somewhere." He groaned as he helped her up, he was genuinely kind to her and so very patient, "How about we start with arm exercises instead and in no time, you'll be flying through the Grail War!"

"The Grail War?" Jeanne furrowed her brows as she landed on two feet, feeling the stable floor and not cushions, "What's that?"

A smile stretched the corner of his pale lips, "Oh, the obstacle course. That's what we call it."

"Ah, I see…"

"Hey, hey, hey, thought I called dibs here." It was a particular voice that caused Jeanne to flip her head towards it, in all his blue-masked glory, the Hound of Ulster approached them; a red lance in hand.

The knight next to Jeanne seemed to have really enjoyed that company of the hound because he immediately seemed much brighter than before, "Hey pooch!"

"Love spot," The red eyed male glared teasingly, "Think you can get chummy with my partner here?"

The dark-haired man let out a laugh, "Marie told me to train her, and so she's my new punch-buddy."

"Punch-buddy?" Jeanne fell back into the conversation.

"Sparring buddy," The knight corrected himself.

Then the Hound continued, "Between us, we call it punch-buddy, just because we're really aggressive with one another," his tone was playful—as always—while he threw an arm around the extremely beautiful man.

They seemed very close and it made Jeanne happy to see such best friends, "How long have you been friends?" It slipped her mouth without even thinking about it a little more.

"Ooooh, um," Silver earrings glimmered as the male moved his head, "Two weeks."

Jeanne's violet eyes grew and she stumbled back a little, tripping but catching herself in time before she fell into the cushion pit of doom again, "Two weeks?"

It had seemed that both men had jumped to help her because they were quite close to her now. They both relaxed after seeing she ha found her footing again, "He's lying, we've known each other since we were children." The Fenian knight sighed, "He likes to tease."

"Not training, are we?" Yet another person entered the conversation, a woman with short dark magenta hair popped into their line of vision. She wore a stiff brown suit and a tie that matched the colour that of her hair. Her eyes were like those chocolates at candy shops that children would ogle at as they walked by with their parents. There was also a beauty mark under her left eye, making her rather appealing.

The Hound—or rather wolf—winked at the woman, "You know it, sweetheart. What brings you to this side of HQ, you should know this is no place for a lovely lass with no weapon." _What a huge flirt_ , Jeanne thought to herself as she watched the blue-haired man extend a hand to land it on the serious woman's shoulder. Although, that never happened because the woman quickly grabbed his wrist, twisted it and—with one swift motion—pinned it against his back.

"What was that Hound, I wasn't able to hear you." There was a smile on her lips—surprisingly.

"Tap out, tap out!" The male waved his free hand and she let him go. He immediately went to rub his wrist in hopes of keeping it in place.

"La Pucelle, correct?" After Jeanne had nodded, the mature lady offered a hand, "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Bazett Fraga McRemitz, it is such a pleasure to meet you."

Jeanne took the female's hand and shook it, "The pleasure is all mine."

"I am this joke's master," She glanced at the lancer-class hero, not the gorgeous one, "and I will be yours as well; I look forward to working with you when you do get out on the field."

"Thank you, and I as well." The blonde bowed.

"Oh, I nearly forgot. Once you get your outfit in check, we would have to get equipped you with a few gadgets as it is important in order to communicate with you. I guess the boys can show you theirs and get you accustomed to them." Her brown eyes landed on the lancers, "I will see you around, Pucelle, à bientôt."

"A-à bientôt!" Jeanne mumbled and waved at the woman as she left.

"You don't know when to quit, pooch," The Knight was surely disappointed with his friend as he shook his head, "Sometimes I wonder."

"Hey!" The young man in question whined, "And you don't know when to stop making ladies fall for you. I already called dibs on the maid."

"W-what do you mean?" Jeanne questioned.

The red eyed boy clapped his hands together, "Ah yes, my lass, I—"

"I mean with the Knight of Fianna making ladies fall for him, and why he is called 'love spot'." She had completely ignored the blue-haired man and it seemed to hit him hard. "Not you too!"

"I have this curse," Oh goodness, everyone was acting like the hound was not even there, "it's rather silly, really, but I have a curse under my right eye. There's a spot, just like Lady Bazett's, and it causes ladies to fall infatuated with me. I would not consider it love. I have had many a-problems with it but I guess I could use it to my advantage with female enemies, although I tend not to because it is dishonorable in my eyes."

"If only I had women falling at my feet, ugh."

"Ignore him, he seems to have been drinking." Diarmuid blinked, a small smile on his lips.

Jeanne immediately began to giggle and she flew a hand to cover her mouth, "Both of you are funny, I think I am going to have fun here."

The Hound of Ulster stood still for a while, just watching the young girl laughing and beaming with happiness, and he felt something inside him that made him want to smile too, "Of course you will," He landed a hand on her head and ruffled her hair; making her laughs fill the air around them.


	7. Pleasure to Meet You, Again

**~Author's Note~**

 **Hey all! How are you all doing today, what with the elections and all?**

 **Well, I love you all and I wish you all the best, especially all you uni students with your midterms! I know how you feel!**

 **Sincerely,**

 **~Ms. AtomicBomb**

* * *

The first day back to school wasn't bringing much excitement to Jeanne's life as it usually did. It was rather monotone, if anything. Well, it was only two minutes in and school had not officially started; but it was hard for Jeanne to see it going anywhere—considering that she had no practice at the H.G.A that day, which only caused her to be much more bored than she previously had been during school hours. She gently closed her locker after placing the outdoor shoes inside and then trudged to her class, the sloth within her getting the best of her for the moment.

Someone wrapped an arm around her shoulders and Jeanne immediately lifted her face to see Gilles. She had already assured him that nothing happened with the 'delinquents' because he had pushed for information and kept asking if she was alright and all, but she did not tell him a single thing other than her being completely fine.

"How is my favourite Frenchie?" He ruffled her hair, a bright smile on his face.

Jeanne frowned, "Gilles, I'm the _only_ French girl in the school,"

"Exactly," he chuckled, "Did you see? We're in the same class, can you believe it?" The young man led Jeanne towards the classroom and they chose seats next to one another and in the middle of the room.

The young girl hung her bag on the small hook provided and smiled at her friend as he continued to talk and comment about the school year and how much fun they were going to have in their last year of high school. He told a small inside joke and Jeanne laughed as she pulled out one of her books.

"Hey," he mumbled, "What do you think happened that day?"

"What day?" Jeanne leaned back on her seat as more students trickled in, laughing and trying to catch up with one another after the long break.

Gilles sighed and gave her a short glare, "I mean the day that we met those strange people. You know, the ones that tried to kill us."

"Well," she blinked, "I have no idea what happened."

"Do you think that they're vigilantes or something? I mean, how could you try and destroy the entire park?"

Jeanne gulped, "I think that they're superheroes, you know? Like Batman…or something," she mumbled the last part, afraid of actually saying out loud.

Gilles scoffed, "Superheroes? That's stupid, it's clear that they're going to end up causing some mass disaster," he leaned his chair so that it was balanced in it's hind legs, "Someone should stop them."

She kept her mouth shut—she barely argued with people and especially with her best friend. It was just that, as of late, he seemed to be getting a bit pushy; ever since the time that he said he met that new friend of his. She had not met the other boy yet but she already knew that she did not like him the slightest bit. In fact, even if Gilles assured her many times over, Jeanne was dead certain she disliked that so-called Ryuunosuke.

Jeanne simply smiled at her friend, turning her attention back to the teacher who made her way inside. The first half of the day was very slow and boring; introductions were always going to be boring. Thus when the end of the day hit, Jeanne immediately stood and was soon followed by Gilles towards the lockers. She slipped out of her school shoes as she set down her running shoes, letting out a yawn in the process. Both the teenagers strolled towards the Shinto prefecture because Jeanne was off to work and Gilles was walking her there; the way he always did. They talked quite a bit before they finally arrived at the front of the bakery and the dark haired boy gave her a wave and smile a short goodbye before heading back in the direction he came from.

The bakery smelt divine; the smell of banana bread, sweet cherries, and even sausages filled the store like a flood, not leaving a single corner of the room untouched. It wasn't long before the bell above the door rang, chimes filling the sweet air with a bit of musical noise. A strong voice joined the cool autumn breeze as a male seemed to call out to his friend, "Yeah, yeah, yeah," the young man laughed, "Coleslaw sandwich, I know." With that, the chimes went off again and this time, the door was closed and the breeze stopped dead short.

"Welcome!" Jeanne gave a bow from behind the counter, a smile on her lips as it always was.

The young man turned to her and she could have sworn that she knew him. His hair was a vibrant electric blue that was very unforgettable but she did not recognize him at all. The man smiled at her, a toothy grin, "Hello there, lass." He waved and proceeded to look back at the bins to find the bread he was looking for.

His smile had made Jeanne's heart skip a beat and she could feel her cheeks slowly burning up. He was handsome, so very handsome, and she already felt uncomfortable for she felt embarrassed that she was in just her plain work uniform. She clenched her jaw as she tried to keep the fluttering in her stomach in check, her violet gaze on the counter before her.

It was only a short delay before the male made it to the counter and set his purchases upon it. Jeanne lifted her gaze, the welcoming smile on her lips and her cheeks a rosy red, earning a smile from his part even as Jeanne punched in the prices.

"Thank you very much, miss..." his red gaze dropped to the nametag upon her chest, "Jehanette." His eyes slowly lifted back up to hers as it seemed he analyzed her a bit, "That's a lovely name, by the way."

"Uh—um, t-thank you." Oh god, was that embarrassing… her words barely even made sense below her mumble, "Uh, four hundred."

"Hm?" The young man furrowed his brows and leaned unto the counter, "what do you mean four hundred?" Even his voice was attractive and it was causing her a lot of trouble.

"F-four hundred y-yen… for the bread."

"Ah," he nodded and dug into his pocket, setting a few coins on the counter with quite a bit of sound. He began to count the coins as he passed them towards her and smiled brightly as he completed the change, "Here we are, lovely lass."

Jeanne's cheeks felt hotter than before and she smiled as she looked at the cashier, "Thank you, have a great day."

The boy lifted his hand in acknowledgement and nodded at her before collecting his purchases and taking long steps towards the door, the chime above him singing one last time before the store was brought into silence again—that was until another customer had set bread upon the counter and startled her; since when had there been another customer in the store?

Jeanne shoved her hands into her pockets after having locked the door. She snuggled into her scarf and adjusted her back so that her bag was not causing her discomfort. The cool breeze bit at her cheeks whilst she soldiered on, her eyes cast downwards and her feet trudging on.

The dim streetlights gave her a bit of insecurity for the fact that they were not enough to light what lie between the many buildings that she passed. Thus, it came as a great shock to her when she felt a hand clasp over her mouth and an arm pull her into the dark abyss of an alley way. Her heart began to beat with horror and she could do nothing but scream yet of course, the scarf and the hand over her mouth nullified any possibility of anyone hearing her as she kicked her legs and tried to pry the arm off of herself.

Her mind began to fill with fear of the worst possible situation and she felt the desperation growing deeper in the pit of her body, her breathing hitched as she began to pray and scream out at the same time.

"No need to be very afraid, my dear." The voice made her heart jump to her throat and block her very own screams, her violet eyes pooling with more fright than before as she fully recognized the delirious voice, "It's been quite a while, ma petite pucelle."

A shiver ran over Jeanne's body as she had the urge to scream again, but her throat knew much too well that no one would hear her.

"You see, last time, I let you off the hook, but it seems that this time, I cannot be as lenient as I hope to not leave any witness behind. You, my lady, are a respectable woman," Jack the Ripper's grip tightened around her, "and you would not have been swept up in this mess otherwise, however, you _had_ to be a nice little heroic girl and interrupt me last time. I do feel quite guilty about this, but it must be done, my dear."

The person began to drag her deeper into the alley and the dim streetlight—that was her last hope—only got father away from her reach.

She awoke with a soft groan, her head feeling heavy as her vision tried to settle into the blinding light before her. Her lids were ponderous and she had difficulty keeping them open. Jeanne slowly lifted her head and leaned it against the pillar behind herself as she took in her surroundings. The light above her was much brighter than the street lights and she could start to see where she was when she saw big gray and red shipping containers and she immediately knew she was at the docks.

She pulled her arms but they were tightly tied with a rope behind the pillar and even her feet were tied as well. Her breathing became erratic again and she began to vigorously pull at the rope so that it could let her free.

"Oh, no, no, no, my love, try not to move so much; it'll only make things more painful for you." Even with the light bright illuminating light, she could not see the face of the person within the cape's hood.

Jeanne groaned through her ripped up scarf that was tied around her head so as to muffle everything she tried to say—or scream. She fluttered her eyes closed and began to pray again but the words of the _Ave Maria_ were hard for her to remember; how did the prayer start again? Tears were starting to stream down her face for the fear was taking over her with a much greater force this time; the thought of no one being able to save her dawning upon her. *

The figure pulled out the contracted banner from behind themselves and smirked—their mouth was the only visible feature of the face, "Look what I found. Now, how did you even use this." They twirled it about their hand until they noticed the button, thus they pressed it.

The banner extended but there was no blinding golden light, no transformation for Jeanne—no hope, "Well, this is rather uneventful. I mean, I wasn't expecting much, but I still feel let down. I guess, I can let you speak a bit, I'm quite certain you are simply dying to ask questions on my identity." With that, the person removed the scarf from Jeanne's mouth, allowing her to finally breath properly.

They took a step back, finally removing their hood and Jeanne's eyes grew wide, "Surprised darling? I'm Jack the Ripper, pleasure to meet your acquaintance." A bright smile on peach lips and bright honey-blue eyes squinting merrily at her. Short white hair hugged a young face as the female bowed before her.

* * *

 **~Author's note~  
**

 ***I actually had a dream about this. It was very real to me so I actually woke up crying. Basically it was really scary because I was running after a white pick-up truck with my brother and it was down this road I know (Lakeshore rd) and my brother was able to get on the truck and take a hold of my hand, but our hands slipped and the truck went off leaving me with the murderer. So, this man wearing a white faceless mask get a hold of me and drags me to this abandoned building and I'm about to be murdered (in the dream of course) and I was trying to pray the Hail Mary, but I couldn't say it properly and the killer just kept saying 'I have to do this'. So I was pretty freaked out when I woke up. I told my sister and bff afterwards and still cried when I told them because it was just so real. Still gives me goosebumps tho. (Btw this happened like half a year ago)**

 **Well, anyways! See you all laterrrrr!**

 **Sincerely,**

 **~Ms. AtomicBomb**


	8. The Warmth of a Light

It was expected to see such behaviour from a man; not that it was acceptable. But after seeing this young girl—probably younger than herself, Jeanne was appalled to have the knowledge that this very girl was trying to murder her. As she had done to many other females before her.

"P-please, you don't need to do this," Jeanne's voice was weak as she tried to scoot further away from Jack the Ripper, but the pole behind her did not help her in the slightest. Again she tried to break her hands free but the rope was only breaking her skin and she knew it was an injury she wouldn't be able to explain to her brother.

"Oh, but we do. There will never be a single witness." The young girl prepared her daggers, "We will try not to hurt you as much as we can."

Jeanne's breathing hitched and she shook her head faster, "Please, please!"

"We have already apologized enough, now," Her blue-honey eyes blinking, "Please understand."

Jeanne closed her eyes, looking up at the light post and the dark sky behind it. Even as a superhero in training she still could not save herself. She tried to blink the tears away along with her fear but it settled deep in her gut with every passing second that the young girl before her took another step closer.

The dagger was placed over her heart, tip digging into her bare skin, flesh dipping, "We'll make it quick," Jack grinned at her.

Jeanne's tear stained cheeks and cracked lips were carefully examined by the young girl, the post light trying to shine onto them both from above like a heavenly light. Jack could tell the girl was trying to supress her sobs and control her breathing because of the blade on her chest.

The blonde could feel the cold sharp metal dip a bit more, drawing a bit of blood from her chest, she supressed a gasp, "Please," she begged, looking away as tears continued to slide down her cheeks, "Please."

Jack huffed and dragged the down her chest a bit, cutting into the poor girl's breast, "We told you, we will not let you go." She hissed. The cut was moderately deep, and the blood began to flow from it, the fat below the skin was exposed a bit; she would surely need stitches if she lived.

Jeanne groaned at the pain and she had to stop herself from writhing in order to refrain from making the blade cut any deeper. Her breathing was much more erratic and her vision was a blur as she had the feeling that everything was going to be alright; even if she died, she would be just fine.

Jack nearly growled, "Oh my, we guess that we have company again. There doesn't seem to be a place that we can kill in peace…does there?" Beautiful eyes blinked before the Ripper stood, drawing the blade away from Jeanne and turning on her heel to face their company.

"And there does not seem to be a place that I do not see you killing." Jeanne could see the man from her slouched form, his blue outfit was undeniably familiar, "Will you let the poor girl go?"

Jeanne finally voiced her pain in form of a sob that escaped her lips much too fast for her to hold it back, "Please?" It was looking like her favourite word now; but her please went unheard by the young serial killer.

"Hound," she was surely a child, the tone in her voice that sounded high pitched and sweet, "You are in dire need of learning some manners." She huffed, eliciting a growl from the man, "Shall we teach you?"

Another animal-like sound was evoked from the blue-haired man before the young girl bolted towards him, the sound of clashing metal filling the dock.

Jeanne watched them with anticipation but fear nonetheless. It wasn't until she heard ruffling from behind her that she was snapped back to the fact that she was tied up still. She almost screamed out but once she felt the rope loosen, she stopped herself. Her head whipped to her right, where she heard someone shift and metal gently lowered unto the floor.

To her surprise, she was met face to face with honey glazed eyes, a gentleness visible in them that she was not sure could ever be possible. Those very eyes dropped to her chest in horror, "We need to get you somewhere safe," even his voice was soothing as he reached out to cover her with her own shirt which had be pulled aside for the knife.

Lifting her strained hands, she looked over her wrists that were bleeding still. Her violet gaze slipped to view her surroundings as she was in search for the staff that had been discarded a long while ago.

"Miss," the kind voice interrupted her and she had to shoot her head back to the Knight, "Are you able to stand?" She must have looked utterly afraid because he drew his hand back after reaching for her, "I won't hurt you, I promise."

She shook her head slowly, her very own voice failing her. Her eyes went back to searching for the banner and she was able to spot it a few meters away, thus she went after it. The Fenian male called after her and that had been a mistake on his part because before Jeanne could reach her banner, she looked over at Jack who had turned back for a second to see that she had been untied.

The young girl readied a dagger even as she fought with the lancer in front of her. Jeanne could already see the projectile in motion even if it had not been launched yet. She stopped reaching for the banner however, she gathered all her strength and jumped towards her saviour right as the dagger was launched.

Jeanne felt two types of pain; the one caused by colliding with the man that had fallen under her in the process and one in her right arm that was sharp and very prominent. She groaned as she rolled off the knight, her right arm emitting pain and sending shocks all through her body.

"We can never get what we want… we'll have to see you another time." The young girl clashed weapons with the blue lancer before turning into black smoke; dagger in Jeanne's upper arm disappearing along with the girl.

Jeanne groaned at the pain as the dark haired man gave her a look of surprise for he was still trying to process the fact that she took the dagger for him, what had been going through her mind? Was she insane?

Still reaching out towards the banner, her partner ran towards her, eyes landing on her face and realizing she had been the one to help him earlier at the bakery, "Where are you hurt?" He glanced her over and noticed the wound on her arm and blood staining her shirt at her chest, "This is bad, really bad."

The Knight of Fianna caught sight of what the girl was reaching out for, a silver pole. He stood and walked towards it, lifting it off the ground and examining it a few times. It wasn't until a little while of examination that the realization had dawned upon him.

"We need to get her to Iri! She'll preform a healing!" The Hound called out towards the Knight.

Jeanne shook her head, "No, no magic please." She gulped, her hair sticking to her forehead with cold sweat.

"What? Are you bloody insane? It's the only way!" Red eyes glared down at her. He was obviously frantic, his voice suggested the urgency of the matter but Jeanne never played with magic.

The black haired man jogged towards her with the pole in hand, catching the attention of violet eyes, "Will you be alright if we leave you here?" He asked her, earning a nod from her part.

"What the hell? We're not leaving her here!"

"Are you certain… if we leave you, you'll be safe?"

"I will," Jeanne heaved, nodding vigorously before the man set the pole in her hand and took a hold of the Hound, dragging him away.

The hound kicked, "You call yourself a gentleman? We cannot leave her here to die! It's our duty to protect the citizens!"

Both males disappeared into the dock's darkness with a lot of the Fenian Knight's effort to drag his friend away. Jeanne lay in the cold concrete floor and tightened her grasp around the banner, "Help me, please." Her eyelids felt heavy as she mumbled the words, but past her drowsy state, she could see a man clothed in light; bare feet touching the floor as he descended.

Feathered wings covered her and the sweetest of voices filled her ears just as the warmth filled her, "Worry not, child, you will be safe." With those simple words, her eyes closed shut and she felt peace fill her, sending tingles all over her body—pain leaving her in the process.

She awoke again, at her bed. The pastel purple walls seeming familiar. She shut her eyes for a while as she recalled the events of the previous night. Her head was aching, but she put that aside as she had trouble remembering how she was able to get home without the help of anyone. She sat up slowly, absent of any pain and head feeling heavy.

She slipped out of bed and slowly made her way toward the washroom, scared to find herself looking utterly beat up. Instead, though, she found herself looking much more alive than any other regular morning. She pulled her pyjama aside to see her chest, expecting to catch a glimpse of the horrible cut Jack had given her. But… There was but a simple scratch; no stitches, no pain. The only evidence she received was a long scratch of sorts as if the knife had simply been gently dragged across, not deep enough to how it had been but enough to draw blood and leave a scar forever. She immediately pulled up the short sleeves and noticed that her arm had gotten the same treatment—it was completely healed. The only injury that she held which remained with the severity that she had received it was her scrapped wrists.

She prepared for another fight with her brother when she reached the kitchen, but it seemed that her brother had yet to notice that she had arrived late yet again. She arrived at school without another problem, but it was something else keeping her wrists away from Gilles deductive eyes. He always seemed to know when there was something wrong with her, no matter what it was.

"Hey Jeanne," He cooed in a joking manner.

Instinctively, she pulled the cardigan's sleeves up to her palms so that there was no way he could see them, a smile on her lips whilst they made their way to class, "Hello Gilles, how are you?"

"Great! Um, so I was thinking, since you aren't working today, how about we meet up with Ryuunosuke?" His voice was a bit timid—as was custom when he was asking Jeanne something. It went unnoticed to her but many people could see he had a crush on her, had had for a couple of years now. What was to be expected of childhood friends, really?

Jeanne gave a glance to Gilles' timid black eyes, a smile still on her lips, "Sure," she answered, drifting her gaze back in front of herself and earning a huge grin from the boy next to her.

They walked down the street, a lollipop in Gilles' hand and Jeanne tightly grasping her backpack. They were talking about school and the work they had to do when they got home as they walked towards the university on the other side of town. They had already taken the subway halfway there and the walk was not that far anyway.

"What does he study?" Jeanne asked, curious as she thought of the man that had taken a hold of her brother's hand a few weeks prior.

Gilles removed the red candy from his mouth and turned to face her, "I'm not quite certain… Anatomy, I believe."

"Really?" She furrowed her brows, something unsettling taking its place in her gut, "That's a rough major."

Her best friend nodded, "That's for sure," He popped the lollipop back into his mouth.

They reached the front gates of the university and looked about for Gilles Friend but the courtyard was much too full to see anything past the dense crowd of students. They opted to sit at a bench and wait but on their way there, Jeanne bumped head first into something for having paid attention to her friend instead of the path in front of her.

She stumbled back and fell on her butt, feeling the weight of her head all over again, "Ouch," she grumbled, pain shooting through her body and a numb sensation on her rear. She took a deep breath and looked up to see a blue-haired man in front of her, the same one she had seen at the bakery the day before.

"Are you—" he stopped mid-sentence, bewildered to see her in such a perfect condition. "Jehanette? From the bakery?"

She just looked up at him, the cute boy she had seen but no words left her mouth as her cheeks began to heat up.

"Are you alright?" He reached out to her, "Let me help you up."

Jeanne extended her hand out towards him, her cardigan sleeve receding and exposing her harmed wrist right as she took the man's hand.

He did not seem as surprised to see her wrist as he had been to see her standing and reaching out with her right arm, "If you don't mind me asking what happened, are you alright? Would you like me to take you to the nurse?"

Gilles had finally jumped into the scenario when Jeanne was standing on her feet, "What did you do to her?" He asked, visibly angry with the fact that Jeanne had fallen and how her wrists were clearly injured.

"I was only helping her." The red-eyed man growled, "Why are you being so protective? Are you her boyfriend or something?"

A blush dusted Gilles' cheeks even if a glare remained on black eyes.

"I-I'm fine," Jeanne interrupted, "I…fell down yesterday." She thought to come up with a quick excuse, "Thank you, sir."

The older of the two calmed down after hearing her voice, "Are you certain you're alright?"

She gave a soft nod and he accepted her answer reluctantly, it was his name being called that snapped him out of the trance, "I'll see you around then." He spoke before leaving an running off toward another young man at the school gates.

"That jerk, who does he think he is hurting girls?" Gilles hissed as he glanced Jeanne over to make sure she was fine, "And how on earth did you get those scars?" He asked, "You for sure did not fall."

Jeanne feigned a smile, "I did." She did not have to explain in what context she fell; whether emotionally of physically.

"Gilles!" They were brought back to reality when an orange-haired man approached them, "There you are? How are you?"

Something churned in Jeanne's stomach as she came into view of Gilles' famous friend. She did not like him. At all.


	9. Ryuunosuke

They sat at a booth, the sun still moderately high in the sky, light filtering in through the sheer curtains at the Ramen restaurant. Jeanne was pressed up against the window, her body sunken into the booth bench and arms on the table, fingers tapping away slowly as she waited for her order. She had spaced out, thinking about school but most importantly; the _agency_.

"So, Gilles has told be all about you." Her thoughts were cut short when she heard the giddy voice of the young adult on the bench across from her.

Jeanne straightened her back and sat up, letting her gaze leave the window watch and settle on the brown-eyed man. She had already determined that she did not like the look in his eyes, nor the overtly-bright smile he held.

Ryuunosuke had his flame orange hair limp on his head, sometimes disrupting the view from his eyes. Albeit, his hair did look soft and well kept, in fact, the boy himself looked very well mannered. His clean white shirt was over layered with a simple royal purple button up, which was ironed and spotless.

Maybe she had made a mistake that night. Maybe he honestly did want to help her brother and was leading him with honest intentions.

The only thing that made him look a little different than your average University- _dead_ _-_ _inside_ -student were the two piercings on his left ear—but that was common nowadays. Many people got multiple piercings.

The odd feeling in the girl's gut persisted, "Ah." She did not have an idea about how to respond.

"You pray a lot?" He asked, his hand holding his head as he leaned on the table.

Jeanne gave a courteous nod, not moving anymore than that.

Ryuunosuke grinned, "Good girl, aren't you?"

"Yes."

Silence seeped into the booth; Gilles had gone to the washroom and had left her alone with the new acquaintance—which she dreaded.

"Hey," he gasped, "aren't you that kid's sister? The one I saw wondering around at night? Yeah! That's you! Oh, man, was that a while ago now, huh?"

"Thank you for finding him." Her voice came out much harsher than intended but, you must know, it was the feeling in her gut.

The boy shook his head, his shinny-straight tooth smile widening, "No problem, girly. My pleasure. But, you know... You oughta be careful around this time of year with that little squirt. Lots of people have been snatching the children these days, isn't that right, big guy?"

Gilles had just made it to the booth, taking his place next to his best friend, a quizzical look on his face, "What?"

Jeanne sat still for a second, _big_ _guy_? It was a rather odd nickname for a high schooler by a post secondary kid.

"Just that Jeannie here should be careful." The man responded, leaning back into the chair and shooting them both a smile.

"Oh! Tell Jeanne what you study! She was curious earlier." Gilles grinned, leaning on the table with his elbows and looking over at the blonde.

"I'm glad you asked, big guy!" He immediately turned to Jeanne following this, "I major in Anatomy and Minor in both Sculpting and Occult History; all about that weird blood ritual stuff and how it helped build modern society."

Alright, so that was outright creepy and there was no way that there wasn't a red flag already going up, but hey! Let the kid have his hobbies, "Interesting..."

"Well, isn't this your last year guys? What do you think of going into?"

"Anatomy, but I think I'll follow Jeanne to wherever she goes." Gilles did not even hesitate for a single second.

Gilles and Ryuunosuke exchanged a quick high five before they turned to her for her response.

She had been thinking about this certain question for a while now. She didn't have much that she truly like enough to pursue, but whenever she thought, a certain idea always popped into her mind, "Military. I want to return to France and join the military there."

"Woah! Sounds cool!" The man exclaimed just as their food arrived, a young woman setting the ramen on the table accordingly, "It's good to be a strong woman these days."

Jeanne did not reply. Instead, she decided to pay attention to her warm food, picking up a pair of chopsticks and digging in. She did not speak for the rest of the dinner, clearly avoiding the conversation between the two males about school and other hobbies.

"Well," Jeanne blinked, "I'll be going now." She said as she waved at them, little to no emotion in her voice. There were many factors that played into her unusual cold demeanour.

 _1\. Ryuunosuke gave her an odd feeling._

 _2\. She was dead tired, what with happened the previous night._

 _3\. Her brother was becoming much stricter as of late._

"But, we should go the same way, we do live in Miyama."

"Well, actually," Jeanne rubbed her neck, the dark eyes of both men before her making her uneasy, "I joined an after school curricular, I go every once in a while."

Gilles furrowed his brows, "You never mentioned it before..." He mumbled, "How about we take you, then?"

Jeanne blinked, "Uh, no it's okay, don't worry!" She shook her head.

"Big Guy's right. It's late, you know, and it's no time for a girl to be going into the city alone." Ryuunosuke agreed, leaning his arm against the taller boy's shoulder.

The blonde forced a smile, "It's fine, I'm stronger than I look."

The dark-haired boy huffed at her stubbornness, "Hey, you know, don't you remember those weird people we saw at the park, what if you meet them again? They're dangerous."

"Honestly," she sighed, "I'm alright, and I'll be fine. Plus, I'm sure I won't run into the again all out of the blue. I'll call you when I get there if it makes you feel any better."

"O-okay, fine. But don't forget to call."

"I won't," she shot her best friend a smile and waved him goodbye before hurrying across the lonely street.

She looked back at the males and finally made her way towards the agency. She made sure they didn't go after her by making too many unnecessary turns. She had already riffled through her bag for her staff and found it within its vast purple fabric depths.

If she had recalled correctly, the agency was right around the corner.

"Umf!" She bumped into someone, stumbling backwards, a sharp pain in her upper arm.

"Watch where you're going, weasel!" A man turned towards her, frown on this pale lips and red eyes glaring her down.

"F-forgive me." She bowed, shooting back up as she recognized the man. She stopped, blinked, and then looked him over. It had to be him, right? Obviously, it was a different nickname, but the face was hazy in her mind.

The man wore an odd black and white half jacket, black pants and a white shirt. His ruby eyes were sometimes obstructed by the light wind that blew his golden hair. He looked awfully familiar...

His demeaning eyes flickering with amazement for a single second before hardening again, "Yeah, whatever mutt."

Even his speech rung a bell but it was odd she couldn't place a name.

"Watch what you say, Gil." It was only then that she realized there was a girl in front of him—a short girl.

Green eyes peered around the man known as 'Gil', a beautiful sight that they were with specs of yellow mixed in. Her skin was flawless and golden strands fell nearly from her head, "I apologize for him, he thinks himself great."

 _Gil? Oh, my gosh! It's the King of Heroes!_ Jeanne gave a shy smile, "It was my fault, though, and I am very sorry."

The short girl stepped forward, past the tall blond, upon fully seeing Jeanne, she blinked, "It was not his place to be so hostile."

"Stop speaking as if I'm not here," the male interrupted, "I can hear every word you speak, Arturia."

"That is the exact issue, Gil," she deadpanned, "You are still here."

Yes, these two were the mighty King of Heroes and King of Knights for sure. The bickering gave the female away.

"What an absolute lack of respect," Gil growled, "I should have you tie up for those nasty words."

"Ignore him, please," The King of Knights pleaded, "He never seems to be in his right mind."

It was odd to see them casually dressed—just like any regular teenager. The young girl wore a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt which threw Jeanne off because how one _earth_ were these the _best heroes in, basically, the world?_ they were just kids.

"Well, you should be on your way, again, I apologize on his behalf," the green-eyed girl spoke with grace and confidence, "Forgive us for holding you here."

"No problem," Jeanne smiled, brushing her hair behind her ear, "And there is really no need to apologize."

"I assure you that there definitely is," the King of Knights nodded.

"Arturia, I thought I told you that we were ought to be going on our date right now." Gil sneered.

Arturia, as the King of Knights seemed to be called, glared ahead, not at anything in particular, her jaw clenching and a frown on her lips, "Not a date, we're running errands."

Jeanne remained silent until the pair headed off, she made sure that they had rounded the corner before stealthily making her way through some maze-like alleyways to get right to the door of the Agency. There were a few security features here and there which she had to overcome—like a fake wall and a few traps.

She went through some more features, her identification and finally the door opened; revealing to her a wide and long hallway. The white tile floors brightly reflected the intense LED lights, whilst the grey walls led her down to another door. It seemed cold, to an extent, but comforting—the Agency was there for helping people, and that's what comforted her. Before she went any further, she placed on her mask, after rifling through her bag; also, pulling out the staff in the process.

"Oh," she jumped at the deep voice, nearly falling back onto her rear yet again, "You must be Bazette's little recruit." Jeanne looked up to see a man completely clad in black, a long dark coat to his mid-calves. There was stubble on his chin and a lifeless look in his eyes. In his right hand was a single cigarette while the other held what looked like a pistol.

He brushed his coat aside, placing the pistol in its case, extending his right hand after switching the position of the cigarette, "Kiritsugu." He introduced himself, "Master of the two Child Kings."

"Child Kings?" She furrowed her brows, taking into a lot of caution the hand that was extended to her for the reason of the gun.

Kiritsugu sighed, "King of Knights and the King of Heroes."

"Oh," she gave a soft laugh, "I see."

"Did you, perhaps, see them around?" He asked, a small flash of emotion flickering in his eyes—most likely curiosity.

She gave a slight nod, "They just recently left. Something about a date, I think?"

Kiritsugu seemed to roll his eyes, aware of what she meant, "I keep telling him to leave her be, this kid never listens."

Jeanne watched as the Japanese man stormed off, most likely trying to catch up to the young Adults she ran into. She did not even have the chance to bid a farewell before she was standing alone in the hallway once more.

The obstacle course still seemed killer, and she was only able to get past two out of the seven stages. There was no way she could climb that wall without a harness. Her trainer had encouraged her a couple of times, assuring her he would catch her if she fell but it was a little bell that interrupted them.

The First Knight looked down at his wrist, the watch on it blinking, "Hey, Pucelle, do not climb the wall yet, I have to take this call, okay?"

Jeanne nodded, sinking down next to the following obstacle. She watched as the man stepped aside and pressed a small button on the watch before the voice of a young man came through.

"Where are you?" The boy through the watch asked.

"Miss Antoinette has yet to tell you, master Waver? I am training a recruit we have." The handsome man replied.

There was a short grunt, "Mind if you leave them for a bit? There seems to be an issue in the Miyama district, there is a problem at the school—Alex needs your help."

"Right now?"

"Yes, right now, please Love Spot?" Waver, as he seemed to be called, answered hurriedly.

"Anything for my master." The Lancer responded, heading back towards Jeanne.

A sigh of relief from his master's part, "Alex can learn a thing or two from you. Thanks again,"

Jeanne jumped to her feet, holding her staff tightly in her hand, "Are you leaving?" She asked.

The young man nodded, "Yeah, I'm sorry. There's seems to be a problem at the high school."

"Can I come with?" She asked, her violet eyes blinking up at him.

He shook his head, "Marie would not approve."

Jeanne frowned, her brows furrowed in exasperation. She wanted to be a part of the action. She did not want people to go through what she had gone through with Jack. She feared having to find the body of a woman at the expanses of a child serial killer, "How else will I learn how to fight in the field? How else will I know how to transform?"

"You were nearly killed like two days ago, what is going on with you, Jehanette?" The boy glared at her.

"What?" She tilted her head, holding back her gasp.

He blinked, covering his mouth immediately, recognizing the great mistake he made, "N-nothing."

"How do you know who I am?"


	10. Chains and Stones

"I must be off," the First Knight of Fianna was visibly shaken, immediately looking away from her.

"No," Jeanne took a hold of the man's arm, muscles tense under her touch, "Answer me first, I need to know."

He shook his head, "Honestly, milady, it is not an important matter right now. I must be off to the high school."

Her grip tightened a bit more, holding him steady in his place. It was a good thing he was not the kind to shake off her grip harshly, "Yes, it is. _Of course_ , it is." She pulled him back towards herself before he could step away any further, "How would that _not_ be important? You know who I am. Who I _really_ am…" Her eyebrows furrowed, " _How_?"

His free hand took a hold of her wrist and he gently squeezed it, "I have to go, Pucelle."

"If you know me, we have to go to Marie and she can work the whole crystal—"

" _No_!" He gasped, his voice becoming a soft but steady hush, " _No, no, no_. You can't go. They can't do this to me _again_."

Jeanne took her own step back, "Wait, what do you mean?" She felt her heart suddenly jump in her chest. There was a pained look in his amber eyes, something scared him; what ever the crystal had to offer.

His head whipped from side to side, searching for something—or rather making sure no one was listening, "It's happened to me before, I know it."

"B-but how? They would have erased all your knowledge… right?" He wasn't himself, not the way she knew him to be. 'Love Spot' was not acting like the cool, composed young man she thought him to be, but rather a hardened and frightened warrior—aged by experience.

His eyes bore into hers, staring her down. She felt small in his gaze, not just physically shorter but inexperienced, "I… I'll explain when we return. We have to hurry to the high school."

She had already loosened her grip on him, letting his arm slip from her hold as he turned towards the exit. It took her a while to snap back to her senses and follow him out the door and to her high school.

They had made it there in seconds with something he had called 'materialization'. Since she had yet to master this technique, he had wrapped an arm around her waist and done the whole 'dematerialization' from the lobby of the Agency.

When they reappeared on the sport's field of the school, she felt her weight had lightened. Her fingers tingled as if being poked with thousands of needles and her vision was slightly blurry. It was an odd and foreign sensation, it caused her much uneasiness.

His armour made little to no sound as they strode through the field, a flickering street light behind them lighting their path. Their shadows were long and dark just as they arrived at the foot of the school's stairs. The male lifted his arm and contacted his partner through the watch, and they were soon led to the second floor of the school and down a moonlit hall.

The school was oddly silent. Their footsteps being the only sign of life for meters to come.

"There you are!" A deep voice called through the hall, the Knight jumping at the sound and nearly screaming.

"You almost gave me a heart attack!" the dark-haired man groaned as he turned back to meet his partner.

Jeanne turned around, her eyes had already settled in the darkness. She noticed a man appear from the vast darkness of one of the stair cases; a tall buff man. His hair looked deep red in the darkness as did his attire. He wore a fur-lined cape—uncharacteristic to any other H.G.A hero, but it suited him well. He was a sturdy man, and he did look quite a few years older than any of the heroes she had seen so far.

"Did you meet someone?" The Irishman had finally calmed down and managed to speak.

"Chains… I only hear chains."

"Chains? Is this school haunted?" He tilted his head, approaching the man in red, lance tight in his hands.

A hearty laugh from the bulky man, "Ha! Are you scared of ghosts there, love spot?"

The Knight frowned, "Why yes, I am not fond of finding myself amidst a demonic being, thank you very much."

Jeanne cracked a small smile, "Really? You shouldn't be scared. Mother taught me that a simple prayer dispels them. A Saint Benedict prayer, to be exact."

"Does that really work?" He asked, honey eyes curious.

The female nodded, "For sure, it always works for me," she smiled, "Here." She pulled a pendant from beneath her shirt. It was a cross of the crucified Jesus with a specific pattern, "This is a Benedict Cross. It's essential against demons and evil spirits." She then got up on her tiptoes, and slowly placed it over his head and around his neck, "Here, take it."

He furrowed his brows and looked down at it, taking it between his fingers, "Thank you…" he mumbled.

"You need not worry of ghosts… people are more frightening." Jeanne hushed over, the darkness engulfing them as a cloud covered the moon.

The Knight of Fianna's partner nodded, clearing his throat, "The young girl is right, Love Spot, people have more evil in their veins."

"I wouldn't say that… I would rather say that people have a possibility of physically hurting you if they are blinded by the enemy." Jeanne clarified, "You cannot be safe from them sometimes."

"I agree with Jeha—did you hear that, King of Conquerors?" The First knight immediately shot his head towards the end of the hallway.

"What?" The redhead scoffed, "What did you hear this time, squirt?"

" _ **Chains**_." Both Jeanne and Diarmuid replied, eyes wide.

Jeanne stepped forwards and towards the deep hallow darkness. Everyone was on alert, and just as they had suddenly heard the chains moving, they stopped. The Frenchwoman frowned, leaning her ear towards the origin of the sounds…but nothing came this time around.

"It stopped." She informed the others who were quite aware of the situation.

"How did we get called here, again?" The Knight mumbled, fearing someone listening in on their conversation.

"Pink lights were coming from this building… It seems to have a high amount of mana emitting from it too. Waver said to be careful as animals were thought to go missing every now and again." The King of Conquerors spoke, crossing his arms over his chest and not being subtle whatsoever.

Jeanne took another step forwards, her grip on the staff tightening, "The school usually does not feel this uneasy…" she mumbled.

From the black void, she watched as something shiny shot towards her at lightening speed. She nearly dodged, but was unlucky when she felt the freezing grip of metal on her right ankle. She only had time to gasp before the chains pulled her feet from under her, dragging her down against the cold and hard floor.

She screamed as the chains dragged her rapidly into the darkness. She never let go of the staff as she clawed at the floor in hopes of grabbing something.

"Pucelle!" She heard the handsome man scream and watched as he reached out towards her before she was dragged into as classroom.

She hung upside down, a groan escaping her lips as she could hear pounding on the door. She twirled a few times until she saw a woman in front of her, black thigh highs covering most of her legs. Her pale skin was exposed around her thighs, a black dress tightly fitting her. Pale pink hair hung straight to her feet, "Pucelle?" Her voice came as a shock to Jeanne—she sounded sweet.

A man stepped into the moonlight to reveal himself; blue tousled hair, "Medusa, this is it, she's the one we need."

The knocking became harder and Jeanne could tell that the room had a magical barrier that did not allow the two males to break the wooden door down.

The woman wore a mask over her eyes, hiding her true intentions from Jeanne's sight.

"Make me strong, please," She mumbled down at the banner, " _please_." She was tired of being weak, of not making something of herself.

The moonlight was outshined by a warm light emitting from the banner and Jeanne was blinded for a second. When her eyes adjusted again, she felt the heaviness of her armour. She was dropped to the floor in the whole ordeal and she transformed into her outfit.

Somehow, unbeknownst to her, she had stood up, drawing her Holy Sword from its scabbard, "What do you want?"

The blue haired man seemed to have been scared, his body language telling her he truly was afraid.

Medusa took a stance of attack right as Jeanne's banner stretched and became the glorious and intricate banner it should be.

Jeanne was not accustomed to holding something as heavy as a sword in one hand, and it even pulled her shoulder down. Yet, she had an inkling to stomp the floor with the end of the banner. She did so twice—the magical barrier dissolving with this action and the males being able to barge in.

Medusa relaxed, withdrawing her chains upon the realization that she was outflanked. She turned her head towards Waver's team, looking over her pale shoulder.

The man she was with was now rambling on about retreat and how useless she was. Medusa did not seem phased by the words that were thrown at her from the young man, instead, she dematerialized from in front of them and appeared next to the man. Without another single second slipping by, they jumped out the window.

"What was that?" Jeanne huffed as she ran towards the window, "Who were they?"

"Are you alright?" Love Spot asked her, looking her over in a new outfit, "You activated it!"

"Deactivating it is the real problem, though…" She mumbled after they noted that the pair had disappeared into the night.

"We should search the school."

* * *

"Will you tell me now? What did you mean by _again?_ " Jeanne was not letting the fact that he knew her identity slip.

They had already arrived back at the agency, they had found some mana capturing circles and destroyed them, a trace of jewels was collected and submitted to the masters as soon as they arrived; a report written as protocol.

"There is something odd." He stated once they had made it to the corner of the training grounds that he had deemed to be safe of onlookers and eavesdroppers, "I have these dreams."

"Dreams?" Jeanne tilted her head, furrowing her brows as they sat down on the floor.

The man that is clad in green huffed, "I am dying. There is a hole in my chest and the King of Knights is holding me."

The blonde crossed her arms over her chest, "That's called a nightmare, sweetie."

The Knight rolled his eyes, "No. It's a memory."

"Why do you say so?"

"I have the scar to prove it. Look, you're the only one that I've told. I haven't even told the Hound… They all know." The look in his eyes was different, he seemed afraid and betrayed, "My dream—memory—it contains snip-its. And the King of Knights just holds me as she cries… I… I don't understand."

"The King of Knights?"

He nodded, "Yes, she holds me. There's blood on her face and she asks me to keep my eyes open. There are times, when we pass each other by—not in my dreams; she seems sad."

Jeanne leaned forwards, her face resting on her hands, "In reality?"

"We spar sometimes, and there's this look in her eyes that tells me she's expecting something from me…something I don't remember." He mumbled, "I have this feeling that we knew each other, more than we know— _I know her_ now. Her eyes…they tell me there's something I don't know."


	11. Curiosity

"Quite odd…" Jeanne mumbled under her breath nearly silently. Her nails tapped onto the glass countertop of the cashier. She was at work, had been for the past four hours; and all her mind was doing was thinking about what had happened with the King of Knights and Pretty Boy. Why could they have erased his memory?

Jeanne had already thought of a few theories, but there was one that stuck. She pushed off the counter and took a deep breath as she ruffled her bangs. The warm sunset light was leaking into the shop, colouring the bread with golden orange hues, the sweet smell of baked sweets lingering in the air around her. Her fingers glided over the smooth glass of the counter while she made her way to a coleslaw sandwich; she was permitted to have a snack every now and again.

The little chime above the door moved and rung as the door was pushed open, letting in the cool evening breeze.

Jeanne turned towards the door, a practised smile on her lips with ease.

"Jehanette?" Her eyes widened as she took note of the man at the door frame. Golden light shun around him like a halo.

"Love Spot?" She mumbled, amazed to see him standing before her—in casual clothing and without a green mask.

He stepped towards her, black curly hair pushed back as always, his flawless face almost glowing with the smile on his lips, "You can call me Diarmuid." He spoke as he fixed his light blue button up shirt.

"Are you hiding the curse thing?" She asked, leaning a little to her left to get a view of the band-aid on his face.

Diarmuid chuckled and gave a light nod, "Yes, it is very tedious having to deal with it."

"I am guessing it is not very effective…"

"Why would you assume so?"

Shrugging, she walked back to the counter, a sandwich in her hands, "You'll be handsome either way. I feel you have to change your style if you do not want girls to look your way."

He frowned, "But I like my style…"

Jeanne nodded, cracking a smile at the childish tone of his voice, "What are we doing today, are we going to train?"

"Well, we will be going to H.G.A since it would be better that way."

"Uhm," Jeanne cleared her throat, "I have not seen The Hound as of late, where has he been?" she rubbed the back of her neck.

Diarmuid made his way towards the young lady, a teasing smirk on his lips, "It seems to me that he might just have caught your eye."

She scoffed, "He is my partner, I should be allowed to be curious over his whereabouts."

Chuckling, the boy gave her a short nod, "He is in Tokyo; a few things that he needs to take care of before he becomes your partner."

"Agency stuff?" She asked.

Diarmuid shook his head, "Girl problems."

An eyebrow was raised as Jeanne opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted with Diarmuid's watch beeping.

"Sorry, we should be headed off to H.Q right now." He spoke, "Is your shift almost over?"

It wasn't long before they arrived in front of the building, having placed on the masks so that they were, _hopefully_ , unrecognizable. They ducked in and immediately went to the respective change rooms after having talked intensively about how the Hound was reckless.

Jeanne unzipped her backpack and pulled out her banner, frowning on the fact that she had to transform again, how did it go again? "Make me strong?" she mumbled, but the magical process did not begin.

She shut her eyes closed, taking a deep breath and trying her best to focus on concentrating properly, "Please?" She flinched, slowly opening her eyes in a bit of anticipation.

Her fingertips lit up, a blinding light emitting from them and a warm breeze filled the change room. Her heart was filled with love and she could feel herself truly become stronger. She felt powerful.

When she opened her eyes once again, she was already clad in her superhero outfit; beautiful banner in hand and sword strapped around her waist. She found herself smiling as she analyzed her gauntlets; this was the first time she had transformed without fearing for her life, which meant she had quite a bit of time to actually process what she wore.

The door caught her attention as it slid open and she could see a blonde head slipping inside. Sweatpants and a mask over green eyes, the girl flickered her gaze towards Jeanne and nodded in acknowledgement. Her lips were stretched, not in a smile nor in a frown; just stretched.

"Hello," she slowly waved, as she pushed through the room, extending her legs in every step, duffle bag swinging with her every move.

The King of Knights had no blinding light, no flickering and certainly no grand transformation. She physically changed. Slipping off her sweatpants she then quickly managed to pull the white under dress over herself.

"Would you please not stare at me change?" Her British voice leaked, head slightly turning towards the Frenchwoman.

Jeanne's cheeks lit up as she shook her head, "I am so sorry. I was just curious, what I mean by that is, well, you know? I thought everyone had a magical transformation—like the anime girls or something."

The King let out a soft scoff, "So I heard, there was a blinding light and the booming voice of God, or something." She rolled her eyes, "Well, most of us here aren't exactly chosen. God knows the Golden Disaster is not."

Jeanne looked down, feeling unwelcomed while the young woman managed to dress into her petticoat and slip her arms into the top dress, tying it up at the front.

"Pucelle, was it?" The King let her green eyes rest on the newbie for a second or two, "I am not here to cause you hell, got it? But this also means that I am not here to baby you. You must make sure to keep up with us. Whether it is true that you are chosen by God or not—whatever ridiculous explanations you come up with—We are here to save people and try to cause as few problems as we can. Do not take this occupation lightly." Her armour was placed on with expertise, swift motions.

"I completely understand," Jeanne rapidly nodded her head, "In fact, I take this very seriously."

"Marie tells me you will be a great addition. The results of your Noble Phatasms came and they apparently prove you to be on the same level of Gil."

"Gil?"

A grunt, "The Golden Disaster, ignore that name; it's a nickname I give him." _So much for keeping a secret._

"Ah, The King of Heroes, right?" a nod was the short woman's response, "Well, what about Diarmuid? He seems to me like the best warrior." Jeanne smiled brightly.

The name had caught the female king's attention, her eyes widening and her hand immediately drawing to the pommel of the sword, "Pardon me?" Her eyes narrowed.

Jeanne shrugged, "He is unique, I really admire his morality. He is simply the perfect man."

Anger bubbled up inside the shorter woman, her chest rising and falling in order to keep her in check, " _Diarmuid_?" How was it that a simpleton, a recruit, an inexperienced _little_ girl would know his name?

"Actually," Jeanne turned towards the king, as she had let her gaze wander about the room, "I was curious about _that_ … I know he will have trouble speaking to me of it, but I wanted to know what happened between the two of you?"

The king stepped towards her, intimidation splashed on her face, "I know not of what you speak."

Jeanne sighed, deciding she needed to be a bit forward; of course, Arturia was still hurt about it; she cried, "How did he get his memory swiped?"

 _Thud!_

The sound of Jeanne crashing against the locker doors resonated throughout the room, her ears ringing in the process as a groan escaped her lips. Arturia held her in place with her armoured forearm at the base of her neck.

"What are you doing?" Jeanne coughed, fear flickering through her violet eyes.

" _Who_ are you? Why are you here?" Arturia hissed, "You think that you can come here, and threaten _me_?"

"Wow, woaaah!" Jeanne gulped as the woman drew her sword, "There's no need to get weapons into this, this is civilized talk between two classy ladies. I know you wouldn't hurt an innocent girl."

"Let me tell you something, _Pucelle_ , I am not afraid to get rid of you at any second; I've dealt with others like you. I do not know how you know about his memory being wiped away, but I will not hesitate to run this sword through you, no matter what you say."

Jeanne's expression hardened just as the woman restricted her breathing even more, "I am not afraid of you." She did not mean for it to come out as a hiss, but the lack of breath made it so.

"Do not dare to even _think_ about hurting Diarmuid, do you understand me?"

"I would never hurt him… But what about you?" Jeanne managed through a gasp, having dropped her banner and tried to move the woman's arm from her neck.

"What?"

"He knows."

Green eyes resembling snakes bore into her, a scoff leaving her lips, "Do not jest with me."

Jeanne glared daggers at the king, "He was the one that told me that you were holding him. He trusted me because he knows all of you are in on it."

The softening expression on the king's face was interrupted by a loud beeping noise through the P.A system.

 _Beep! Beep! Beep! Code Yellow, immediately report to the arena, Code Yellow. Report to the Arena. Beep! Beep! Beep!_

Arturia jumped back, determination on her features.

"What does Code Yellow mean?" Jeanne managed between ragged gasps and breaths.

The older of the two did not even pay any attention to the one that was trying to recover from the choking. Jeanne did not stay behind to wonder but rather followed soon after, running into Diarmuid on the way to the Arena.

"Are you alright?" He asked, a worried look in her eyes as she could see there was a red mark over her neck and her eyes were also red, "Did something happen?"

"No," Jeanne shook her head, "Nothing happened." She gave a wavering smile but he did not ask any further questions until they arrived at the arena.

They were made to line up while Marie walked passed them all—as if they were being inspected.

"Now," her voice was quite loud for someone so short, "the number of chid kidnappings has severely increased ever since the summer. Today we were informed of another kidnapping. After many investigations, we have concluded that this is a mana related crime." She took a few silent steps, standing right in front of Jeanne.

"We are all to be on high alert. Pucelle and the King of Knights will be the ones leading this investigation. If you ever have any suggestions, tips, or simply want to join them, feel free to speak with them." Marie spoke, looking around at the other heroes, "What are you all standing for, my heroes? Go find the missing children!"


	12. A Knight's Scars

_"Watching her, these things she said_

 _The times she cried_

 _Too frail to wake this time." **-Ceremony, New Order**_

* * *

Jeanne stood still, thinking a bit about the issue at hand, but mind split into the problem with the King.

"Pucelle," The tall boy made his way towards her, "I'd like to join you." His honey eyes blinking down at her, arms crossing over his chest.

She shook her head, thinking back to Arturia's threat in the changeroom, "I'm sorry but I do not think it would be a wise decision."

He sighed, "I let you come with me last time. I think it would only be fair if you return the gesture."

Jeanne gulped, looking over at the blonde for a second, "No," she lowered her head, "maybe next time, Love Spot."

Diarmuid leaned forward, whispering into her ear, "Did something happen between the two of you?"

She pulled back, staring at him wide-eyed, "Why would you say that?" She hated lying but even if she had said she was not afraid of the King, she really was.

"You seem a bit on edge and your neck was red when you came out. Are you certain she did not threaten you?" He furrowed his brows, concern lacing his words.

She shook her head, "No, no, I would not think she would be capable of that…" She never once looked him in the eye this time.

"If it's something she feels strongly about, I'm sure she would not think twice." He looked over at the King, lips thin and arms still crossed.

Their gazes locked for a second. The King of Knights had a look in her green eyes, behind her mask. They were clouded with emotion and then they seemed to brighten up.

"Are you going to stand there the entire day?" The King of the Knights hissed at the taller blonde (To be fair two simple inches made no difference) as her eyes narrowed, previous soft expression hardening, "We have an individual to defeat, in case it has already slipped your mind."

Jeanne shook her head in response and gulped, looking back up at the young man, "I really ought to go. Next time, I promise." Then she glanced over her shoulder towards the king, she had every right to be afraid of the shorter blonde. The king might have been tiny but short people make it up with how much anger they store. Pucelle managed a weak smile, but sincere nonetheless.

"Remember to pull your weight." The King warned, nearly glaring at Jeanne when she reached her.

"No worries, I believe I can manage." She blinked, holding her banner tightly in her hands, knuckles turning white with every second that passed. She was not irritated, per se, but simply very confused. Jeanne had too much patience for her own good, she knew it would be the end of her one day.

* * *

Patrolling was not very hard, and it also was not the first time that Jeanne had done it, it was about the third time. Thus, it was not as hard as she had recalled. In fact, it was refreshing, save for the fact that they were watching out for the possibility of children being abducted. That being said, they were on lookout and with how keen the King of Knights was about these things. She was very careful.

The sky was cloudy, hiding any visible stars from being seen by the people that went about their nightly routines. Jeanne had found it very odd that they had been partnered up in the first place, but maybe they could be real strong together. The Hound was still out and about in Tokyo and since The King was being very defensive about Diarmuid joining the, they had time to bond and put aside all the differences they had.

"Were… the two of you lovers?" It had been a long night for patrolling, they had walked around for quite a while. They were both seated on the roof top of a sky scraper now, (in case you are wondering how they got there; stairs) silently watching the city from afar. Arturia seemed to have calmed down and was being kind, in her own way, to Jeanne, "Diarmuid and you, I mean."

The king shot her head towards her, bangs swinging and eyes wide, "Pardon me?" Her voice was scandalized, hand drawn to her chest in shock (almost as if to hold her heart in place for fear it would jump out).

Jeanne was silent for a while, her mind preparing the words she wanted to speak, "Well, it hurts him deeply, as I have come to know, and if you weren't lovers you must have been very close friends…" Her voice trailed, eyes drifting out towards the city.

She heard the king take a deep and long breath, "Partners."

The young Frenchwoman looked back at the blue-clad lady, "Pardon?"

"We were partners." She answered clearly, armoured hands playing with the armour over the skirt of her dress, causing little clinks of noise that flew into the silent and cool night, "Not lovers, exactly." Both the girls did not understand why she was spilling out her life at such a moment.

Arturia thought that maybe it was the many heart aches she had endured over the past two years, or the memory of the lancer in her arms as he slowly slipped away. _God_ , she even thought that it was because of the _atmosphere_ of the peaceful night.

The cars were barely audible, nothing above the soft murmuring of the city. The glow of Fuyuki shun light upon the knight's face, features stuck in nostalgia and agony. The cool breeze dusted her cheeks and nose pink, hair dancing lightly in the wind the way a ballerina would on her debut. There was calm silence, serenity; she felt safe to talk about it.

The King of Knights trusted Marie with her life and she guessed that if the Pucelle had made it to the H.G.A with the enthusiasm that Marie had introducing her, then she would not hurt anyone, "We were enamoured but we were aware of our boundaries, we knew how our life could have been endangered and how we would be altered by something so… reckless."

Jeanne gulped, "I would not say love is reckless."

Arturia nodded, "Oh, but it _was_. And look where that recklessness brought us to. It was a grave mistake and we both paid the price. I chose to live with this and I could not have ever thought of putting him through anymore pain than he had already endured."

"Uhm," Jeanne licked her lips, unsure if she should ask any questions, "Do you… still have feelings for him?"

 _Diarmuid looked up at her, pale and dry lips, sunken eyes and damp hair. He shakily opened his mouth to speak, struggling to form any coherent words; something that could show her what he felt, what he feared, or what he wished for her._

 _She held him close, eyes blurry with tears as she too could not speak. His gasps were deafening and she was shaking just having him so close but leaving her, "Y-you will be alright," she mumbled, her eyes momentarily flickering to the wound on his chest, "Stay awake,_ please _."_ _Her hand cupped his face, wiping a bloody tear that slipped down his cheek._

" _Arturia," her heart always skipped a beat when he said her name, but this time it sunk, "_ You _will be alright."_

 _Arturia gulped, she was trying to catch the life he still had left in his amber eyes, "D-don't say that." She hushed over but quickly lifted her head and looked around for someone to help, she needed help. She needed him to live, for him to smile brightly and kiss her forehead. She missed it all already, she missed the way he would brush his hand against hers and apologize profusely after, she missed the blush on his face._

" _Please! Someone help me!" She called out, bringing him closer just as she could see him close his eyes, "Please." Her voice cracked as she looked down at him, "Please."_

She covered her mouth and looked away, "I will not answer that." Her heart tightened, stomach unsteady and her mind fearing what had transpired years before. It pained her and she knew it always would, but she chose to live with that pain because she would carry the pain for them both.

It was Jeanne's turn to take a deep breath, "Welp," she pursed her lips together, "do you get along with 'the Golden Disaster'?"

Arturia choked, "Did you truly ask me that ridiculous question?" She was already looking back at the recruit, brows knitted and an offended look splashed on her face.

Jeanne giggled and fidgeted with the staff in her right hand, letting the flag blow in the autumn night wind, "Then how did you two get partnered up if you always bicker?"

"I had been on leave for months after Diarmuid's recuperation and when I returned, Marie thought it would have been a most splendid idea to get me a new partner. I would have none of it but my master," Jeanne's mind flashed back to the man with a gun, "Kiritsugu, also insisted and I could not disobey him, neither his wife."

Another laugh from the Frenchwoman's lips, "You care a lot about what your master thinks."

Arturia nodded, "I must. It only shows the highest form of respect." She answered, "And I suggest you dare not disobey your own master."

"I am not one to break rules either; unless they are ridiculous and have no actual reason behind them." Jeanne replied, placing her banner further away from the skyscraper's edge.

"I would have to agree with the last part of your statement."

"Yes—" A soft ring interrupted the French girl. She looked down at the watch she had been given but there was no trace of anyone wishing to talk to her. Instead it was the King's silver watch that was beeping, getting louder with every ring.

She huffed, excusing herself for a short while. She stood from the edge of the building, walking away a bit and finally pressing the button on the watch to silence the beeping.

Jeanne did not want to eavesdrop and so instead of paying attention to what the other girl was saying, she thought it much more respectful to be listening to the sounds of the city. She thought of what had transpired between the two knights and it would not leave her mind. Both of them suffered greatly, and the poor boy had endured so much physical pain while Arturia chose to carry the emotional scars.

It took a while for the woman to return, an annoyed expression splashed upon her face. She was visibly angered and very upset, her light demeanour had subsided and she was back to her stoic self, "We ought to be headed off now."

The Pucelle furrowed her brows, leaning back on her hands as she tilted her head up to her temporary partner, "What's wrong?"

"The Golden Disaster is nagging me again and he figured out where we were, thus I want to leave as soon as I can before he arrives and ruins my day much more than it already is." The young lady offered a hand so that she could help the other up.

Jeanne did not hesitate to take it, seeing it as an open door to their friendship. She could not hold her smile back as she was helped to her feet, lifting the banner up from the floor as well. What Arturia had been through had made her afraid of what was to come and what the Hound could also encounter, but just as Arturia was strong, she hoped to be just like her. She only wished that they could all grow to be friends and soon heal from whatever problem was hurting them.


	13. Gauntlets

Jeanne grunted, brows furrowed and tears in her eyes. Her hands desperately clung to the other young woman's. Her banner had fallen, her feet giving way under her and now she was hanging off a crane, nearly thirty stories off the floor.

"Don't let go!" The King of Knights held unto her as tight as she could, her sword discarded some ways away from her, "Don't even _think_ about it."

"I won't." Jeanne screamed, tightly grasping the other female for love of her life, "Help me, _please_." A tear rolled down her cheek and she dared not look down below her.

The cold wind did not help her at all, she was terrified; a petrified look splashed on her face. Her feet swung in the thin air, nose stinging and vision blurry. The only problem was that she barely had grip in her gauntlets, and she knew it was only a matter of time until she slipped from Arturia's harsh grasp.

Her worst fear became reality when her hand fell through the gauntlet.

Arturia mirrored the mortified look on Jeanne's face, a scream burst through her, her body shaking violently and Jeanne just felt her stomach drop and the wind in her hair.

* * *

"Why, um, are we _here_ …?" Jeanne asked, stepping over what seemed to be a log; she was unsure due to the darkness that engulfed the empty building. It was beyond her why the other female had dragged her into a skyscraper that was currently under construction; it was nothing but a shell of what would be. Void of any living trace and plunged into darkness.

The King of Knights continued ahead, the light of her watch allowing them to see a few feet ahead, it was such a short line of vision but at least it was something. "I recalled," the King spoke, head slightly tilting towards the Frenchwoman, "that my master had said that the construction of this building had to be halted because of mysterious and unexplainable activity. I thought nothing of it but I realized the great amount of mana emitting from it just now."

"Mana?"

" _Energy_ , to say the least."

Jeanne blinked, "I know what it means, I was hinting to ask what _type_ of mana?"

"Nothing good."

"As I feared," she sighed, "So we're investigating."

There was no reply. A thick silence filled the building and not even the city noise entered through the wall-less structure.

Jeanne kept her eye out for any strange activity lurking behind the concrete pillars. Her breath was steady and controlled but her mind wandered due to the fact that they were looking for a child abductor and with a young brother of her own, she feared the worst.

"Did Marie tell us around where the children went missing?" Arturia slowed to a stop, right before a staircase.

Biting her lip, the younger of the two was pushed into thought, "Uh… I think she said it was near the red-light district by the small private school.

Arturia's frown grew. There was silence once more before the woman took a step up the stairs and then she ascended with caution.

It was only when Jeanne could barely see anything that she ran after the King, missing the flash of light that lit her path. She caught her breath at the top of the stairs, one hand holding unto the pillar while the other held her chest.

"Stop." The King commanded.

Jeanne listened and stopped a few feet away from the staircase. She kept silent as she noticed Arturia was trying her best to focus on the noises around her. This happened a few times for each floor that they ascended. Except around less than a quarter away from the top, Arturia was certain she had heard footsteps.

The king instructed the younger lady to stop in her tracks, as she intently listened to whatever might have been lurking between the pillars. There was a sudden movement that caught her eyes, and a short-muffled scream of what sounded like a child.

A shadow erupted from one of the columns, dragging a much smaller shadow behind.

Jeanne froze, all senses shutting down from fear of whatever monster lurked within the building. The king wasted no time, she ran after the figures, up the stairs; disappearing to the floor above and forced Jeanne to do the same.

They ran up all the flights of stair right up until got to the top floor without being able to catch the figure, only the deep and thick silence was visible from the skeleton of the building.

The King looked over the city, deep frown cutting her lips. She glanced over at the crane that shot up from what would be the elevator shaft. "Is… is there someone there?" Her eyes were narrowed, as if focusing on what was within the beams of the crane.

Jeanne too looked over at the crane, eyes squinting, "I can't tell…" She mumbled.

From the darkness of the night, she saw a pair of eyes, ones the frightened her beyond reason. Arturia gasped, running—once again—towards the crane. She drew her sword, invisible blade and air gushing from the pommel, her head held high and eyes narrowed.

The Frenchwoman followed in pursuit, banner in hand and the other occupied with keeping her balance. They made it atop the crane; the shadow wiggled through the beams, running out deeper into the dark abyss of the nighttime.

The child was now visible to the girls. A little boy, scared out of his mind, shaking as if he were a blade of grass on a windy day.

Jeanne's heart ached, watching the shadow take the boy through the crane and to the end of it; which flew over the thirty story building.

The King and she cornered the captor, still unable to see their face.

"Let him go!" Jeanne demanded, her voice loud so that the wind would not carry it away.

There was no type of negotiation from the other party, not even hesitation as the child was pushed off the crane, doomed to fall thirty floors to the ground.

Jeanne screamed, jumping off the crane to catch the child but instead of falling, she was caught. She cried, her heart dropping along with the boy.

"Pucelle! It's just an illusion!" The King called to her, just as her banner slipped from her hands.

Her mind was a mess; the image of the child falling, the fact that she was hanging off a building. Tears slid down her face, "H-how do you know?" She hiccupped.

"Both disappeared. Pucelle, just calm down, you'll be the only one hurt. Trust me, you are going to be okay. Hold on tight."

Jeanne grunted, brows furrowed and tears in her eyes. Her hands desperately clung to the other young woman's.

"Don't let go! Don't even _think_ about it."

"I won't." Jeanne screamed, tightly grasping the other female for love of her life, "Help me, _please_." A tear rolled down her cheek and she dared not look down below her.

The cold wind did not help her at all, she was terrified; a petrified look splashed on her face. Her feet swung in the thin air, nose stinging and vision blurry. The only problem was that she barely had grip in her gauntlets, and she knew it was only a matter of time until she slipped from Arturia's harsh grasp.

Her worst fear became reality when her hand fell through the gauntlet.

Arturia mirrored the mortified look on Jeanne's face, a scream burst through her, her body shaking violently and Jeanne just felt her stomach drop and the wind in her hair. _She screamed_.

The loud roar of a chariot grumbled beneath her falling figure and she was suddenly floating mid-air. Her screaming halted and was over taken by confusion. She was embraced, bridal style, and she immediately felt secure.

"You must have been scared." She looked up at her savior; blue mask clouding red eyes.

She fainted in his arms.

"I told you not to wait until she was falling!" The raven-haired man next to the Hound nagged, "She could have gotten a heart attack."

The Hound grinned, "What's better than a superhero entrance?"

"I would have to agree with the Hound on this one." The King of Conquerors chuckled from his place on the chariot, slowly directing the bulls to join the other king atop the building.

"Not you too!"

Love Spot and the Hound argued a bit, the unconscious girl still in the taller man's arms, even as the chariot settled and the King of Knights ran towards them.

"Ah! If it isn't the Gerbil King! How are you?" The cocky smile of the Hound made the female King twitch.

"Leave the Pucelle in the chariot." She instructed.

The Hound let her rest soundly on the chariot's floor as all the other H.G.A members dismounted the vehicle.

"What did you think of—"

The king threw a punch at the Lancer, "Are you insane? Do you realize the trauma you put her through?"

The blue knight stumbled back at the intensity of her punch. He instinctively held a hand to his face, "You punched me with a gauntlet on? You want to know how much that fucking hurts?"

"I hope it hurts a lot."

The other two males kept silent, watching the exchange with eyes of bewilderment.

The Hound looked at his hand, noting the blood that came from his cheek and lip, "What the bloody hell was that for?"

The King growled, "For your incompetence!"

"My-Ha! I'm hardly incompetent!"

She punched him again. And again.

Diarmuid jumped in, hand blocking her from advancing. "I think he had enough." He reasoned, "We are disappointed with him for his recklessness."

The King pushed him aside, "This has nothing to do with you, First Knight." Scowl on her face as she spoke with determination.

He held her by the shoulders, " _My King_ ," he murmured, almost lovingly, "I think it best that you stop. I know you are hurt too, but what is important is that the Pucelle is safe. We should take her back to head quarters."

The British woman looked away, her mind taking her back a few years when he used to talk to her like such. "Alright." She shook her head, "I am _not_ hurt." She managed to hiss under her breath.

The blue-haired man massaged his face, trying to let his pain subside but the scratches and bruises were not going to go away for a couple of days, he was certain of that.

After picking up the banner, they headed back to the agency. It hadn't been more than ten minutes when Jeanne awoke again, seeing them all inside the chariot.

She gulped, a little afraid of the height they were at for she could not see any skyscrapers but only the light emitted by them. "I…Fainted?" she asked, earning a nod from all the other heroes. She noticed the beaten-up state of her partner and immediately hurried to attend him, "What happened to you?"

They all looked away from her, falling silent—or rather staying silent as there were no words spoken.

"What happened?" She repeated, giving them a sond chance to answer.

"I…" he mumbled.

"I punched him." The King spoke up, a frown on her lips.

Jeanne furrowed her brows, " _Why_?"

The armoured lady shrugged, eyes cast beyond the French girl. "We got into an argument. He deserved more, I can assure you of that."

* * *

Arturia sat on her bed, head leaning against the wall. The occasional car drove past her house, lighting her room momentarily. She was curled up, arms hugging her knees as she thought of what had transpired that day. She was afraid, the feeling of Jeanne's hand slipping through her grip was haunting her, they look on the young girl's face as she fell—she couldn't get rid of it. This was her second time, she had let another person down.

The feeling of Diarmuid's hands on her shoulders and the way he called her only made her heart ache all the more. She couldn't let someone's life slip through her hands again; she would not allow that.


	14. Worthless

_"Lost in the memory as it shakes up the corners of my heart._  
 _Was it my mistake?"_

 _-Kodaline_

* * *

Arturia groaned, her eyelids groggily fluttered open. The light of the sun kissed her face and she shuffled in her bed, pulling the covers over her head. She loved the warmth of the bed, how the pillow was fluffy, how the covers were smooth, how she felt her troubles far from her in the comfort of the early morning hours. She felt at peace and most importantly; _safe_.

Her eyes fluttered open under the heaps of bedsheets and blankets. The bright sunlight filtered blue through her comforter and she snuggled closer to her pillow. She wanted to stay in bed all day, to lazy around and forget her duties or her homework…or even the test she had for the following day.

"Artie!" She heard her mother call.

She groaned again, closing her eyes shut, wishing the day way.

"Arturia! You are going to be late, hurry! I'll drop you off!" And then there was knocking on her door.

She sat up, pushing the many blankets off herself. She looked around her room, the sole picture hanging from her vanity caught her eye. She fell back on the bed again and covered her face with her arm.

"Sweetie," the door was pushed open, "are you feeling ill?"

Arturia gulped at the sound of her mom's voice, laced with concern. "I…mother, can I stay home today?" She still had her face covered, the warmth of the sun very much welcomed.

The floor boards creaked under the weight of her mother as she approached, the bed dipping when she sat down. "What's wrong, Artie?"

"My stomach hurts," she answered, "my head aches, I am having trouble breathing properly, and all I want is to curl up." She was not lying, she was in pain.

A hand fell on her forehead. "How about we go to the hospital?"

Arturia shook her head, "No, I want to stay at home."

"Come on, get up. I'll take you to the hospital. What if it's something serious?" The bed groaned and Arturia opened her eyes, squinting past the sunlight to see the well-kept figure of her mother. After blinking a few times, the image was clearer, nicer, beautiful. "You haven't had your appendix removed yet, what if it burst?"

"It's only heartbreak, mother. I just need time…"

"Heartbreak?" Igraine furrowed her brows, frowning. "Arturia, how long have you been hung up on this boy?" She huffed, looking around the room in impatience. Her blue eyes caught the picture and she walked up to it, taking it off the vanity.

Arturia sprang up from the bed, "Mother, no! Don't touch it!"

"Arturia, this boy is gone. He should be dead to you." Igraine's beautiful and soft face was stern, hard and nearly bitter. Her jaw was clenched, and it was evident in the red look in her eyes that she was angry, _very angry_.

Arturia shook her head. "Mother, please. He did nothing wrong…I—"

Igraine watched her daughter. How sad she looked, how desperate. Arturia had never looked so fragile before but in the mornings, after a long day, it seemed as if just tapping her would cause her to fall into pieces. The business woman lowered the photo, extending it towards Arturia.

Arturia immediately grabbed at it, holding it firmly to her chest. "This…" she mumbled, "This is _all_ I have. It's the only thing that proves it was _real_. Even if—" She fell back on her bed— "even if he can't recall."

Igraine placed a hand on her child's head. "He's moved on, Artie, don't you think it's time you do too?"

She stood from the bed. "I'll go to class." She ignored her mother's words and walked to the bathroom, grabbing her blue towel on the way there. Looking at herself in the mirror, she tried to rid herself of the memories that plagued her constantly. She placed the picture upside down on the counter and proceeded with her daily routine. Slipping out of her clothes and stepping into the hot shower.

It was odd, she would admit, she felt the pain but ever since that day she never shed a single tear. She could not physically cry and that was what pained her the most.

* * *

"Jehanette, how are you feeling?" Diarmuid leaned against the counter, concern in his eyes and his voice nearly apologetic.

Jeanne shrugged. "I have had nightmares this entire week, I don't think I'm doing very well."

"I scolded the Hound repeatedly, I am sorry."

She gave a hopeless smile. "There's no need to apologize, you all saved me and for that I am _extremely_ thankful."

"And then we almost killed you by giving you a heart attack."

She laughed, shaking her head, "But I am alive and well, that is all that matters, right?"

"Yeah," he rubbed the back of his neck, "of course."

The store bell rang as the door was opened and Jeanne immediately glared at the young man so that he would get off the counter. He obeyed with a smile and a nod.

She watched as a blonde girl stalked through the aisles, analyzing the bread and finally bringing a basketful to the counter.

Jeanne's eyes grew as she saw the King of Knights standing there, right _there_ in front of her. "H-Hello." She bowed.

The King reached into her backpack after sliding it off her shoulders. "Hello." She finally fished out a small leather wallet. "How much will it be?"

The Frenchwoman immediately began scanning the pile of bread and after having finished she rang up the price.

Handing her the exact amount, Arturia grabbed the bag of bread and turned about after having thanked the clerk and precisely ran into Diarmuid. She tumbled back a bit, hitting the counter with her butt. "Excuse me," she apologized, bowing deeply.

"I should be the one to apologize," he spoke, and without any form of hesitation she looked up at him.

She stared, wide-eyed and in awe.

Jeanne watched in silence, hoping they would somehow speak or connect in anyway.

Arturia's eyes fell to Diarmuid's chest and she shut her eyes as if she were burnt or hit. She walked past him without another word, pushing through the door and all but raced out of sight.

Diarmuid stood in shock and hesitantly turn towards his friend. " _Well_ , that was surely odd."

The clerk's eyes never once left the door. "Yeah…"

* * *

"You can't expect to stuff yourself with bread and call it dinner," Gil scoffed, his arms crossed over his chest and a frown on his lips as he watched the fountain spring out water.

Arturia glared, "I do not recall asking for your opinion. In fact, I do not even recall asking for your company."

"The more you treat me roughly, the more I fall in love with you, I hope you are aware of that."

She rolled her eyes, shoving another piece of bread into her mouth, sitting cross-legged on the park bench as Gil stood next to her. "Wmmhmm mne halmnm?"

" _What_?"

She swallowed. "Would you just leave me alone?"

He looked down at her, ignoring the people the walked past them at the busy park. " _No_. Not when you're depressed."

"Depressed?" She scoffed, " _Sure_."

Gil blinked down at her. "You eat lots of bread when you're sad, I figured that much."

Her jaw dropped.

"It should not be so surprising, _idiot_. I have said I like you, very much so."

"Well, you're wrong. I am not upset, now you can leave me alone."

The young man shrugged. "I am not leaving you. You shouldn't be alone."

"I am not frail, I can take care of myself just fine."

He chuckled, "I beg to differ."

She threw the plastic bag at him, not in the mood of his egoism. "Leave me alone," she repeated, this time is a husk.

He shook his head, " _Yeeeaaah_... Not feeling it. I'll be staying with you until you eat all that bread. Oh, and do pick up after yourself." He looked down at the plastic bag that had fallen on the floor. "The King of Knights should not be a litterbug."

"I said leave me the bloody hell alone!"

"No matter what you say, I will _not_ leave you alone. You need someone by your side."

She clenched her jaw and looked down. "Why do you always enjoy making me miserable?"

"It's that stupid mongrel, isn't it?" He rolled his eyes.

She tensed under his words.

"It is not fair. He lives his life carefree and you must suffer because of him? Someone so lowly, miserable and meaningless does not get to feel his true worth? He is nothing but the dust upon my armour—annoying and filthy. One day, I will destroy him."

She shot up from the park bench, swaying her hand and slapping the King of Heroes right across the face. "Do not dare speak of him so… _ill_. I chose this. I _deserve_ this. Blame him again and _I_ will be the one destroying _you_."

Gil held his cheek, anger plastered on his face. He grabbed her wrist tightly, twisting it in a painful manner. "Land a hand on me again, Arturia, and I promise you _will_ regret it."

"Your empty threats mean nothing, Gilgamesh," she spat, shaking his hand off harshly.

Her ears rang, and she fell back on the bench as her cheek stung so much it was numbed. She groaned, processing what had just happened as she stared at her partner in shock. She could not even form coherent words as he looked down at her with his haughty demeanour.

"There," he hissed, "now we're even." He did not wait any longer, nor did he want a reaction from her as he stormed away leaving the crowd staring at her in disbelief.

Someone rushed over to her side and took her hand.

"What a…" They never finished. "Are you alright?"

Finally falling back to her senses, she turned to the only person who went to check on her. "Yes." Her breath caught in her throat and everything seemed to slow down.

Honey eyes stared at her, blinking every so often. His mouth moved as if he were saying something, but she couldn't hear him. She took it in; his face, his voice (although she could not understand what he was saying to her), his beauty mark, his eyes, his hair. She missed him, she missed him desperately. She could feel herself gravitate towards him but the image of his sunken eyes, bloody tears and dry lips kept her frozen.

"Miss," she twitched in response, "do you need me to bring you anything?"

She took him in one last time, took his kindness, his sincerity, his _entirety_ in. Taking a deep breath, she stood from the bench. "I do not need any help." She was about to take off running in the direction of Gil until she was stopped.

"He's not worth it." Diarmuid stared at her and she could feel her heart sink. "A man who lands a hand on a woman is _not_ worth it."

She shook him off. "I do _not_ need your advice. Leave me be," she hissed, glaring daggers at him and that was when she noticed there was a girl next to him, the clerk from the bakery. She disassociated and found it very challenging to focus on anything.

She ran. As fast as her shaking body could take her, she ran away from him.

Arturia burst through the door of her house, slamming it before storming up the stairs and into her room, grabbing the photo and staring at it before crumpling the smiling face of Diarmuid. She threw the paper away and closed her eyes as she fell on her bed, remembering his bleeding body in her arms, the last words he said to her as she kissed his forehead.

" _Never forget me, Artie."_

She fell off the bed and scrambled towards the photo, uncrumpling it and looking down at it. The pain in her chest growing, her inability to breath steadily returning. She wanted to cry, she wanted to feel the tears falling down her cheeks, she wished for just a single tear but nothing came. "Oh god, _why_?"

* * *

 _Author's Note_

Well, I was not planning to make this chapter so...angsty. I was sorta feeling in the mood for angsty and thus here we are. I promise the story will get lighter, happier, less angsty soon, if not next chapter. I wanted to focus on Arturia, one her thoughts and her feelings. I am actually very satisfied with this chapter. Although, I hope to hear from you. I wish you a very great day/night/afternoon. Sorry it took me ages to update this fic...

Sincerely,

 _Ms. AtomicBomb_


	15. Déjà Vu

_"And I bled everyday now_  
 _For a year for a year"_

 _-The Irrepressibles_

* * *

Chatting, Diarmuid and Jeanne walked through the streets of Fuyuki. They had decided it was best not to talk about the exchange with the young girl in the park; it was not any of their business. But, Diarmuid couldn't help but feel hurt by the words of the girl. He wasn't very sensitive, and he usually would never let what others said put him down, especially the words of those he did not know.

"Is everything all right?" Jeanne asked, noting the forming frown on the boy's lips. He did not seem all there with her and it worried her. She thought it was possible that he recognized Arturia, but she did not say a word about that.

He looked over at her. "Yeah," he smiled, "why wouldn't it be?"

She returned the smile, nodding. "If you say so."

They continued walking, making their way to the Head Quarters while talking a bit about school and friends. They had gone around town running some errands and they had noticed that they were about two hours late to practice, but they did not mid. Walking past an electronics shop, they stopped by the windows, seeing a wide screen television projecting the mid-day news.

"—with the disappearance of yet another child, parents are starting to keep a tighter hold on their children for fear that their own kid will be next. This has marked the fifth kidnapping this month, which is keeping authorities restless and on high alert." The presenter spoke, serious expression on his face, "We advise, keep a close eye on your children and do not let them wander the streets by themselves."

Jeanne felt a chill run down her spine, uneasiness settling in the depths of her chest. "Scary," she mumbled, recalling the illusion she had seen atop the crane.

Diarmuid landed a hand on her shoulder, "It's going to be okay, we'll fix it." He assured, looking down at her with compassionate eyes.

She nodded, "You're right. I should focus on training in order to be of better help to the kids."

"That's it, let's go." Diarmuid was a great friend, she would admit. He always seemed concerned, making sure everyone around him was alright, but he could also get cocky, a factor, she deemed, of being a hero. He was always respectful and up to give a helping hand. Though, he was secretive, and she could tell he was hiding something from her, but she never pressed it.

The day was hot, and it wasn't much help that she was wearing a sweater, but she did not take it off, just because they were so close to the agency and she did not want to carry the sweater about in her hands.

"Jeannie?" She heard her name, turning back to see her best friend.

She smiled, "Gilles! Hey, how are you?" She asked, stopping until he caught up. Diarmuid stopped too, offering a welcoming smile.

"I'm cool, and you?" His expression seemed a bit sour, but she knew he got that way when he got in a fight with his parents.

She shrugged, "Ya' know, a little all over the place as usual."

"You didn't answer your phone, I was worried something was the matter."

"Oh!" She gasped, "Sorry! I left it on 'do not disturb' since I was doing a morning shift. Sorry!"

"No problem," he smiled at her but then his expression changed again, finally paying attention to the young man standing next to her. "Who's _this_?" His voice was poisoned and harsh.

"Diarmuid, nice to meet you." The raven-haired man extended his hand, offering a bright smile.

Gilles analyzed his hand and then let his eyes drift back up to the Irishman's face. "Gilles." He, in turn, did not shake the welcoming hand. "Isn't he a little old for you, Jehanette?"

It was odd to hear him call her so formally, he always had a nickname for her. "He's my friend," she blinked, feeling a bit awkward, "we…"

" _Oh_ , how'd you two meet?"

"The gym."

"The park." They answered in unison and immediately regretted it.

"The park in the gym," Jeanne cleared the confusion.

Gilles frowned, "You didn't tell me that you were working out… Since when?"

"Ah," Jeanne scratched her head, "well…I wanted to get fit, you know. I also wanted to learn how to fight, you never know when you might need it." She shrugged, laughing a bit awkwardly.

He nodded, "Right. Well, you know I'll always be there for you, so you needn't fight battles by yourself."

" _Yes_ , of course." She looked up at Diarmuid, seeing if he was becoming impatient but it seemed he was indifferent. "Well, Diarmuid and I should be heading to the gym now…"

"Sure, yeah, well…we're still meeting up tomorrow, yeah?" Gilles asked, tilting his head slightly.

"Absolutely."

"Great, uhm, so just be careful when you go home, you know with what's been going on lately…you shouldn't trust too easily." Jeanne did note the side glance that Gilles gave Diarmuid, but she chose to ignore it.

"Thanks, well, we really should be off. See you tomorrow!" Jeanne waved, bidding him a farewell and pulling Diarmuid towards the head quarters along with her. He was silent for a while but then they began chatting about food since they both noticed they had been skipping lunch.

"Should we stop by the convenience store and pick something up before we head to HQ?" Diarmuid asked, fixing the bag on his shoulder so it would not dig into his skin.

Jeanne sucked air through her teeth. "Yeah, that would be great, actually." She smiled. "Could we also have a popsicle afterwards, it's getting really hot out here."

"Yeah, no problem, we just need to find a store now."

"— _and a cake, and a popsicle, and a soda, and chips (we can't forget the chips) and also a chocolate bar and—"_

" _The entire store, right?" Diarmuid looked down at her, a laugh erupting from his mouth._

 _She pouted, dropping her green gaze, "Can you blame me? All that practicing has me hungry!"_

" _You're not sad, are you?" He noted that whenever Arturia was sad, she would eat an ungodly amount of junk food._

" _Nah," she shook her head, "I'm just really tired."_

" _I'm also hungry," he said as his eyes sparked with mischief, pace slowing to a stop in the middle of the alley that they used as a shortcut._

 _She fixed her bag straps, stopping as well, right in front of him. "What do you want? I'll get it for you."_

 _His eyes darkened, and he pushed her against the bricked wall, leaning over her. "_ You _."_

 _Diarmuid watched as her cheeks lit up like blooming roses and she stiffened. "Uh-I-um, er…" She stuttered, "We, um…"_

 _He laughed, ruffling her hair and pulling away from her. "Oh, Artie, you're so cute." His flirtatiousness subsiding and he saw he blush fade and her eyes narrow in anger._

" _Ugh!" She punched him in the arm, "You're such a tease!"_

 _He winced in pain but continued to laugh. "But you make it so easy." He pouted as he followed her as she had all but run off towards the convenience store. "I'm actually hungry, though!"_

" _Well, now I'm not offering, buy what you want."_

" _Aw, sweetheart," he whined, "don't be like that." He caught up, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "Are you mad at me?"_

 _She rolled her eyes. "You can't buy me with that sweet talk."_

 _He placed a gentle kiss on her temple. "Why would I buy you if you're already mine?" He asked, kissing her cheek over and over in a playful fashion._

 _She cracked a smile but pushed him away. "_ Sure _, you keep telling yourself that," she said sarcastically, leaning into him slightly._

"There should be a store right about here." He signalled, and they reached a small shop. He remembered the wooden seats inside and the layout, but it had changed since the last time he had come, or so he thought.

He held the door open for Jeanne and followed her in. They walked through the aisles and he noticed a blond head bobbing about. He felt his chest tighten and he followed the short blonde, seeing a young woman filling a basket with sweets and goods that were clearly not healthy.

"Artie?" His breathing was erratic, and he held onto the shelf. She remembered her a bit more, but he wasn't sure if maybe this Artie was a dream or if she was real. And he was still having trouble thinking of how Artie was in any relation to the King of Knights.

"Ugh, Gil," she groaned, "what th—" she stopped, hushing herself upon seeing the tall man, but then she looked away. "hell? That idiot took my wallet…" she found an excuse and then left the basket on the floor, quickly leaving the shop.

He did not get to run after her because Jeanne had called out to him.

"Hey! Did you want strawberry or green tea?" She asked, looking over her shoulder at him. She watched him as he stared aimlessly at the store's door. "You okay?"

He looked back at her, "Uh, yeah, yeah. I'm good. I just…" He looked down at the basket, then over at Jeanne. "Give me a blueberry and I'll be right back."

Jeanne passed him a blueberry popsicle and gave him a smile. "Sure, just don't leave me here all alone," she laughed. "Take your time."

"Thanks…" He blinked, running to the front of the store and left a bill on the counter before running out of the store and looking around, hoping to catch a glimpse of the girl. He did not see her anywhere but for some reason he decided to go right. Running through the suburban street, he passed a few buildings.

Diarmuid stopped, looking back as he crossed a store. He turned back, running back to where he saw the brightly lit alley. His breath caught in his throat when he saw a blonde young woman standing in the middle of it, looking down at her phone.

He felt his heart race, faster than it was when he was running. Catching his breath and easing his anxiety, he walked towards her, slowly. He felt that if he talked to her his life would change and he feared that change, but he also wanted to know why he dreamed of her even if they did not know each other. He needed to know who she was to him.

"—Yeah, well he saw me, and I think he recognizes me…" He heard her as she spoke to whoever was on the other side of the phone. "No, he called out my name, Gil, this isn't a joke, I'm serious!"

"Excuse me," Diarmuid interrupted.

She jumped at his voice, phone almost slipping through her hand. "Uh—I, I'll call you back."

" _Who's that? Artie, what's going on? You're acting st—"_ The blonde turned off her phone (shutting up the man on the other line), holding it tightly in her hands. "Yes?" She held her lips in a straight line. "What do you want?" She tried to scare him off with her mean demeanour.

She was leaning against the wall, a vine creeping next to her as she stared up at him. Her cheeks were red, and her bangs were damp, he deemed it to be because of the weather.

"… _So, I thought about it." She nibbled on her bottom lip, a blush on her cheeks, the spring breeze blowing her bangs around her._

" _And?" He sounded hopeful, confident she would not reject him._

" _Are you sure you want to date me? I'm not really…well…"_

"Here," He extended his hand, holding the popsicle out to her, "you look kinda hot."

She stared at him, blinking. "Is that your pickup line? You could have done better, frankly."

Diarmuid blushed, his cheeks much more flushed now. "I-uhm, I… that's not what I meant. You-you, it's hot out and you should keep cool because…because well, erm…"

A smile spread on her lips, but her eyes held melancholy. "Thank you, I guess. But, I think you might need it more than me."

"I insist." He did not move his hand. " _Please_."

Hesitantly she took the popsicle, their hands brushing and causing his heart to swell in his chest. She scoffed, looking down at the popsicles flavour. "I guess somethings just stick."

He furrowed his brows, tilting his head. "Pardon me?"

"Nothing." She shook her head. "Well, thank you, I should be going now." They did not bid a proper farewell and she left, leaving him in the dust once more, but this time with a smile on his face.

* * *

 _Author's Note_

So this is becoming too Diarturia looool. Worry not! I will be heading back to the action part of this fic. Just be a bit patient with me! Sorry guys!

Sincerely,

 _Ms. AtomicBomb_


	16. Heart

_"I know heartbreak hurts, but I'll be alright."_

* * *

Arturia finally burst through the doors of Gilgamesh's room. He was practicing his guitar and slowly looked up from the chords he was about to strum, pulling out an ear bud. Blinking at her, he looked over at the door. "You do know there's a thing called knocking, right?"

She took erratic breaths, pacing around the room as she ran a hand through her hair.

"Have you come to apologize for slapping me? You know you'd have to get on your knees for that." He smirked, straightening up.

Arturia did not pay attention to him before she began to speak. "I think…I think he knows."

Setting the guitar beside himself, Gilgamesh leaned back on his arms, eyebrow raising slightly. "Who?"

"I think Love Spot knows."

Looking down at his finger nails, he sighed, "Is that what you were going on about on the phone when you called and rudely hung up on me?"

She nodded. "Yes! Because it's true! He called my name, _my name_ , Gil. This isn't a joke."

"It's just a name."

"No, it isn't. He—he was at the store we always went to, he found me in the alley we always walked past, and he even gave me a blueberry popsicle. He knows they're my favourite."

"I think you're reading way too much into it."

"Really?" She stopped pacing, turning to him and pulling a hand to her chest. "Gil, even if he doesn't remember everything, he's starting to. He must know something we thought we'd erased. Doesn't this mean these gems don't work effectively?"

"Wait," Gilgamesh stood, "if what you say is true, that means…he isn't the only one to remember."

Arturia's eyes widened. "You're not—"

He nodded and reached for his coat. "We have to tell Marie."

" _No_!" Arturia took his hand. "We can't."

"Why? Arturia, this is serious."

"We—we can't do this to him again. He, he won't brave it through a second time."

"Artie, look," he landed his hands on her shoulders. "I think it's time you stop this nonsense."

"What do you mean?" She gulped, trying not to let him see her emotions.

He took a deep breath. "Both of you need your memories erased, it was stupid of you to hold on to them this whole time."

"No!" She threw his hands off her. " _No_ , I promised, Gil. A knight always honours their promise. I can't…I can't just forget him."

" _Oh god_ , Arturia, get over bloody yourself! This doesn't make you honourable or a hero; this makes you an idiot. Stop acting so overzealous and get over it."

"You don't know what it means to let someone down because you've never cared about anyone in your life! You don't care what it means to honour a promise or even to love someone!"

Anger twisted his face and he prepared himself to punish her, but he didn't. He just stood in wrath. "Get out, Arturia! Get the hell out of my house!"

" _Gladly_ ," she hissed and slammed the door of his bedroom as she rushed out of the house. Her vision was red, and she was bubbling up inside like simmering water. It was dark out now, her commute to Gilgamesh's house had been long and exhausting. She had thought of heading home or stopping to eat something, but she told herself it was better to let her rage out at the ring in the HGA and so she settled on that.

Stepping out of the bus, she popped her hood on her head and shoved her hands into her pockets. As discreet as she possibly could be, she headed off towards the headquarters, shying her face away from any streetlight.

After reaching the changerooms without having met anyone along the way, she changed into her outfit. Wishing she didn't have to slip out of the comfy oversized sweater, she slipped it off lethargically and continued to step into the bloomers, the petticoat, the dress and finally the jacket. She stared at the armour and contemplated putting on. In the end, she did, but the armour seemed to weigh more than she recalled.

"King of Knights!" She turned around once she had reached the dummy.

"Hello," Arturia greeted upon seeing La Pucelle walking up to her, Diarmuid just behind her.

La Pucelle smiled, a smile that seemed heart warming but Arturia did not want to see. "Lover boy and I are going on guarding duty, wanna tag along?"

"It's Love _Spot_ ," Diarmuid corrected, a blush on his face.

" _What're you doing?" He asked, looking up at her with a bright blush on his face._

 _She shrugged, "Nothing."_

 _He cleared his throat. "Why are you still straddling me? You beat me this time, I surrender."_

 _Smiling, she leaned toward him, lips brushing his beauty mark, "Maybe I just want to kiss, have you thought of that?"_

 _He sat up, pushing her away slightly before covering his face. "Stop saying embarrassing things."_

Arturia found herself smiling upon seeing him all red. She missed when she would make him blush and he'd get flustered. She looked down at her sword.

"Come on!" La Pucelle grinned, "We could get to know each other better, whaddya say?"

She looked back up at La Pucelle, giving her a courteous nod. "That's very kind of you, but I think it'd be best if I practice some sword fighting."

"How about a spar?" Diarmuid asked, pulling out his lance. "You win, you stay. _I_ win, you tag along?"

"Why would you want to force me to go with you?"

He blushed, "I…I don't want you to be all by yourself."

Arturia gulped, looking away from him. "Fine, hand to hand combat. No weapons."

"Done." He dropped his lances to the floor, walking towards her.

She sheathed her sword, leaving it aside before Diarmuid moved the dummy out of the ring. They stood before each other and La Pucelle took a seat on the bench, looking giddy as Arturia could tell she was excited to see who would win.

Arturia had occasionally sparred with Diarmuid after what had happened and those were the only moments that she could think nothing had happened between them and everything was they way it was before. She loved those little moments and stares they shared. How their fight had an underlining of fervour and flirtatiousness. She lived for the spars they had.

Jeanne sat, legs crossed and leaning forward with excitement. The Hound had told her that when Arturia and Diarmuid fought it was almost as if they were dancing, Arturia always had grace to her strides and Diarmuid never missed a compliment. The Hound could not be any righter.

Arturia threw a punch and Diarmuid dodged, slipping away and moving out of the way before she could throw another.

He seemed to catch her, but she blocked his punch, attacking with her own.

Their fight was quick, and each punch or block did not last anymore than half a second.

Arturia's footwork was brilliant, she seemed to be almost hovering with every move she made, while Diarmuid was less agile, a product of his height and weight, Jeanne deemed.

"You're doing great," Diarmuid commented, a smile on his face.

Arturia grinned, blocking his attack, "Don't flatter me."

He laughed, catching his breath. "I'm not flattering you, you really are talented."

"Thank you."

Jeanne assumed he would always say something like this to her and he did continue his compliments as they threw punches.

Arturia took some hits but it seemed as if she was winning, as Diarmuid took more hits. He wasn't letting her win at all, she was just more refined in her skills while he still needed a bit of polishing. He might have been physically stronger, but Arturia knew exactly what she needed to do to beat him.

Jeanne could also tell that Arturia didn't want to win. After a bit, when she had had her fun and boosted her pride, she became sloppier, but this did not give Diarmuid an advantage, he too was becoming sloppy. The glances they exchanged, the compliments, the smiles, they somehow seemed sweeter and understanding.

Arturia threw a punch, hitting him right in the gut as he had been preoccupied staring at her hair.

He was left breathless (in the painful way) before he tumbled to the floor, trying to catch his breath, even if the pain overpowered him.

The King of Knights stiffened and stood as if she had turned to ice.

Jeanne shot up from her seat, rushing over to Diarmuid who remained on the floor in shock. She looked up towards Arturia, noticing her hands were trembling and her eyes were slowly starting to water. She took a step back.

"King of Knights are you okay?"

Bringing a shaking hand up to her mouth, Arturia took another step back.

 _Krsh!_

 _Arturia fell to her knees as she had seen Diarmuid drop like a stone. She touched her face, looking down at her gauntlet and seeing it stained with blood. Her body shook, no tears in her eyes before she scrambled to grab her sword. She could see Diarmuid's face, the pain twisting it, mouth parted while a trail of blood slipped from his lips._

"—Knights?"

Arturia snapped back, looking at La Pucelle. "I—he…" Her eyes were searching everywhere, stepping back once more, she turned around and ran off.

Diarmuid coughed before Jeanne helped him to his feet. He breathed, a little shakily, and gave Jeanne a nod before he went after Arturia.

He all but ran to get her, stopping to catch his breath a few times. He followed her into a hall where he knew she'd be. "King of Knights," he panted as he reached her.

She took another step back, but she knew she was cornered. "I'm sorry. I hurt you."

Diarmuid stepped towards her again, and again until her back hit the wall and he loomed over her. He saw her big green eyes stare at him and he couldn't help but recognize her. "Artie," he breathed.

Arturia gasped, immediately drawing her hand to her mask, checking if it was still there; it was. "Wh-? H-how? I—I," she heaved.

Clearing his throat and taking a steady breath, he lifted his hand and caressed her face. "It's you, isn't it?"

"I—"

He leaned down, closing his eyes and she froze in his grip. She didn't know what she should feel. She felt happy and thankful that he remembered her, but she was also angry that he did. He had to be suffering and all because of her, all because she had continued to spend time with him, because she had continued to torture herself. But oh, was she happy, her heart was bursting at the seams the way he had said her name, the way he was caressing her face with that fear that he was going to hurt her if he held her any tighter.

She gulped, and he flickered his eyes open. His breath was on her lips and she found it heard to think straight. She felt she was taking advantage of him, of his tired and confused state. She felt _wrong_.

"Arturia," his lips brushed against hers and she felt tears slipping down her face.

He planted a gentle kiss on the corner of her lips. "I remember. I remember you, us…the end." He slipped his hand in hers, holding it firmly. " _I remember you_ ," he mumbled against her forehead.

They were startled when their watches began to ring. An alarm blared through the Agency and Diarmuid made a move to pull away but Arturia held him in place.

"Stay," she didn't ask, she didn't beg, she commanded him. "Stay with me."

He heard the crack in her voice and he slowly hugged her, kissing her head again as he patted it. Her arms wrapped around him, squeezing him with all the force she could muster.

"I'm sorry I'm selfish," she mumbled into his chest, sniffling. No matter what she told herself or what anyone else told her, she knew everything was right. She was finally in his arms again.

"You're not," he whispered, holding her tighter.

 _Code Red. Immediately report to the arena. Code Red. Report to the Arena._


End file.
